


A Thousand Stars

by Dorothy Marley (dmarley)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, M/M, Romance, Season/Series 01, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-10-10
Updated: 1999-10-10
Packaged: 2017-10-02 20:41:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,864
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dmarley/pseuds/Dorothy%20Marley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel Jackson decides that it's time to stop beating around the bush, but, as usual, life around the SGC is hardly that simple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Stars

"Fairer than the evening air, clad in the beauty of a thousand stars."  
\--Christopher Marlowe, "Doctor Faustus"

\-----

Prologue, Daniel Jackson's personal journal:

I can't sleep. Again. I'm beginning to wonder if I'll ever be able to sleep again. Ever since I came back from that other world--other reality, whatever it was--all these thoughts have been like a rioting crowd inside my head. No matter how hard I try, how many times I tell myself that it's over, I can't seem to stop thinking about everything I saw there. More to the point, I can't stop thinking about what it all says about, well, me. About what it means to me to be the man that I am, to be Dr. Daniel Jackson.

I'm having a hard time accepting that the other Dr. Jackson is--was--me. On one level, I understand--or at least I think I do--about the quantum realities and how different choices shape our lives in those realities, etc., etc. But that doesn't mean that I can understand how any person that's still fundamentally me could have done what he did, could have chosen to turn away from the opportunity to work on the Stargate. The fact that he did tells me that we were _not_ the same person. And yet, we are. Were.

What was he like, that other me? Was he happy? Was he successful? Angry? Frustrated? Did he go to Egypt because it was what he wanted, or did he go to escape? I was at the end of my rope when Catherine first approached me, broke, homeless, and about as likely to land a job in my field as I was to grow wings and fly. I'd isolated myself from and alienated almost every other Egyptologist on the planet, and the few I hadn't were, well, not to put too fine a point on it, even crazier than most people thought I was. I had no one to turn to, nowhere to go.

Maybe he was less desperate. Maybe he'd already given up trying to convince his peers that his theories were correct, finally chosen acceptance and respectability over the pursuit of those ideas. I can't say I really blame him for that. I know from experience that sticking to those principles was a one-way ticket to the unemployment line. For me, it had been worth it. In fact, it had ultimately paid off in ways I could never have imagined. After all, if I'd been a respected member of the profession, with the chance to go to Egypt and work, I probably wouldn't have been so quick to agree to Catherine's proposal. But I still wonder how he could have passed up the chance to have a crack at those symbols, strange and new and unlike anything else I'd ever seen. Maybe that's a lesson for me, that respectability apparently dulls my curiosity. Not such a hot bargain, then.

I'm lucky, I guess. Not every man has the chance to actually see how his life would have turned out if he'd done things differently. Maybe there are things I might have done better, but on the whole I'd count my current situation as pretty much a success.

For one thing, I'm still alive.

If nothing else, being in that other world has made me appreciate what I do have here. My place in the SGC, my assignment to SG-1, my friendships with Sam, and Teal'c...and Jack. Especially Jack, when I consider what happened when I met the Jack in the other world. That's not something I ever want to have to live through again. Everything was wrong from the moment I stepped through the gate, horribly wrong. I was, literally, a stranger in a strange land, all alone in a world that was fundamentally wrong. But when I finally saw Jack, I couldn't help feeling this enormous sense of relief. I knew without a doubt that somehow, together, we'd find a way to make everything all right.

That lasted all of about five minutes. Except for his face, there wasn't anything I recognized about him. Even worse, there wasn't anything that he recognized about me. I think I could have taken almost anything, could even have accepted that Jack was dead. But to be confronted with this stranger, this bitter, closed-off, unfeeling man who didn't even know me, that was hard.

I've always thought of myself as self-reliant, able to live my own life without having to depend on anyone else. I suppose it has a lot to do with being orphaned at an early age, with feeling that I had to take care of myself because there wasn't anyone else to do it for me. Until I met that other Jack, though, I'd never realized how much I'd come to rely on the friendship and trust of my own Jack O'Neill. He was a prop I didn't even know I had until it was knocked out from under me.

Considering the fact that I've loved him almost as long as I've known him, I don't know why I was so shocked when I realized how much I'd come to depend on him. Maybe that's because I haven't had the chance to take love for granted. If I'd learned that he didn't _love_ me, well, that wouldn't have been such a big surprise, now, would it?

Ouch. That was harsh. And not entirely fair, either. I mean, how the hell am I supposed to know what Jack feels about me when I won't even tell him how _I_ feel? God, I suck. But what else am I supposed to do? Sha're is still out there somewhere. Until I find her, or until I know that there's no hope, I can't make any promise to Jack that would be worth keeping.

That's what's tearing me apart. I love Sha're. I still love her, and the dream of my life is to live and grow old with her. But now, lately, I've begun to realize that it's not the only dream. I don't want to think that I've given up on her. I don't want to think that I'm starting to act as though she's never coming back. But now I have to ask myself what I'm going to do if she doesn't. How long am I supposed to wait? How many months, how many years, before I'm allowed to say, "It's over. I'm done."

"I give up."

I don't want to give up. I love her. I miss her so badly it hurts. I miss her smile, her laugh, her touch, her body next to mine. I used to go to bed at night and wake up thinking she was beside me, imagining that if I turned over, if I only reached out my hand, I'd find her there. But it's been a long time since I've even done that.

It's only been a year. Considerably less than a year, by Abydonian reckoning. Far too soon to give up, or to even think about giving up. When I first started this journey, I told myself that I'd search until I found her, no matter how long it took, no matter how far I had to go. Now, I catch myself wondering how long that will be, and how far. How am I supposed to measure a thing like that? How many millions of light years before I've satisfied my obligation, how many days and weeks and years? How long before I can turn to Jack and say to him, "I love you," without feeling as though I've betrayed the woman I still love? All I know, right now, is that it's too soon.

\-----

Two Years Later

\-----

Jack was bored. He sat in his office, scowling at the bare surface of his desk and wondering what the Air Force did to officers who managed to run out of paperwork to do. _Shoot them off to another planet, with any luck,_ he thought. It had been five days now since SG-1's last assignment, five long days of hanging around the base and filling out reports and pretending that he had a reason to actually be there. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate the occasional opportunity to wake up on planet Earth in the morning, but enough was enough.

With a grunt of impatience, Jack pushed himself away from his desk, grabbing the sheaf of daily reports from his out basket. Might as well walk them up in person, take the chance to stretch his legs. After all, he'd been here slaving away for...Jack checked his watch and sighed. A whole hour.

It didn't help, he reflected as he walked down to the elevator, that his two scientists seemed perfectly content to spend the time slobbering over the latest unpronounceable whatsits they'd dragged from offworld, with no sympathy for an aging colonel with restless feet. Even Teal'c, usually good for a few hours in the gym or a field trip to study Earth culture, had abandoned him for a three-day leave to visit his family.

The future, though, was looking up. Teal'c was due back in a couple of hours, and once the team was at full strength again Jack had every hope there would be a mission in store for them. Soon. Looking at the Gate missions scheduled for the next week, Jack had noticed that there was a nice little gap coming up in the next couple of days, a perfect slot for a new mission for SG-1. It was something to look forward to.

Despite his best efforts, delivering the reports to the General's aide only took about five minutes. Jack hung around in the briefing room for another ten, drinking his second extra coffee of the day and half-heartedly eavesdropping on Makepeace and the rest of SG-3. Finally deciding that he wasn't that bored, Jack finished his coffee and left, just in time to run into General Hammond in the corridor.

"Morning, General," he greeted him cheerily. "I was just up delivering my daily reports." He rubbed his hands together. "Love those reports, sir, highlight of my day. I was thinking of going down and getting started on tomorrow's, in fact."

Hammond regarded him for a long moment. "I realize it's been a while since SG-1's last mission, Colonel."

"Has it? You know, sir, I've been so darned busy with all that paperwork, I hadn't even noticed."

"I see. Teal'c is due back soon, isn't he?"

"Yes, sir. 1100 hours, sir."

It wasn't a smile, not anything near it, but Jack knew that he saw the corner of Hammond's mouth turn up. "Good. Because I'd like to meet with SG-1 at 1400 hours for a new mission briefing, Colonel."

"Yes, sir!" Jack snapped off a salute so smart that it threatened to strain a ligament, then sauntered off down the corridor, whistling. Yes, indeed. Things were looking up.

\-----

"Good news, kids." Jack stepped into Daniel's lab, clapping his hands together and beaming into the startled faces of his team. "I just spoke to General Hammond, and we've got a briefing for a new mission at 1400 hours--that's two o' clock to you, Daniel." He waited, but neither Carter nor Daniel appeared to be jumping up and down for joy. "Well? Isn't that good news?"

"Yes, sir," Carter said dutifully, but it was clear that her heart wasn't in it. Daniel was less tactful.

"You mean an offworld mission?" he asked. "Now?"

"Well, I'm assuming that since our job involves traveling through that snazzy Stargate thing, there's a good chance that we'll be going offworld, yes." Jack looked from one to the other. "What's the matter? We've been stuck here for almost a week twiddling our thumbs. Well, some of us have," he amended, glancing around at the even-messier-than-usual chaos of Daniel's lab. "But don't tell me," he went on, raising his hands. "You're on the verge of a major breakthrough, am I right? Decoding the meaning of life, uncovering the secrets of the universe?"

He should have known better than to ask. "Yes," Daniel said. "In fact, I think we may be very close to an important discovery. I've been analyzing the syntax from these scrolls--" He scrabbled briefly through the mess on his desk and produced a sheaf of reprints. "--and I think it's related to some of the lettering we found on the monuments on P4N-293. The letter forms are too similar for it to be a coincidence."

Jack willed his eyes not to glaze over. "Uh-huh. And that means...?"

On cue, Carter jumped in. "That maybe the inhabitants of P4N-293 might have used the gate to conquer other worlds, much like the Goa'uld." She paused. "On a much smaller scale, of course."

"Until the Goa'ulds wiped them out," Jack felt obliged to point out. _And made all this moot,_ he didn't add.

"Yes, well, there is that," Daniel said reluctantly. "But it's interesting to know."

"Yeah, really interesting. Another civilization that couldn't stop them. That's very helpful." Jack sat down in his usual chair and folded his arms over his chest. "Wake me if you make any more exciting discoveries. Wouldn't want to miss anything."

Scientists. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate them. In the right time and place, a scientist could be very useful. Especially, he reflected, a scientist who could also fire a machine gun and set a C-4 charge without blowing himself--or anyone else--up. But, sometimes, he had to wonder. Carter and Daniel were way up there in the smarts, no question, but there were times when Jack had to ask himself why it was that he was the one who had to make the decisions. Well, aside from the fact that he was the colonel.

_You know why,_ he told himself, listening with half an ear while Daniel launched into a explanation of some kind to Carter, the details of which went over his head somewhere around the first "syntactical structure." _If it were up to these two, we'd still be investigating every tiny micron of the first few planets we visited._

Even as he thought it, though, he felt a brief wave of guilt, and peeled an eye open long enough to cast an apologetic glance in Daniel's general direction. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that Daniel hadn't joined this little club entirely out of scientific curiosity. Easy for him, that is. Daniel had never forgotten, Jack was sure. Every mission had been a reminder, Daniel had told him once, every trip through the Gate holding the possibility that, one day, he'd find his Sha're again. Of course, Daniel couldn't stop wanting to explore all the new worlds and peoples any more than he could have stopped breathing, but when the time came he was always willing to move on, knowing that each trip might be a step closer to finding Sha're.

There were times when the universe sucked. Sha're didn't deserve what had happened to her. No one did, but especially not her, not someone who had so much else to live for. Jack hadn't really known the lady very well, but he did know what Daniel had been willing to do to find her. That was good enough for him. He spared a glance at Daniel again, tuning in briefly to what he was saying to Carter.

"No, I don't think so, Sam. Unless we want to accept that the dating is off by several thousand years, these two passages are not contemporary." The conversation dwindled into incomprehensibility again, and Jack closed his eyes.

That, right there, was the kind of stuff Daniel really loved. Books and bones and dusty old pots and hours spent arguing with someone who could actually understand what he was talking about. Not that Daniel was actually a bad soldier. All things considered, he was a surprisingly good one. But it wasn't exactly what he'd planned to do with his life, and Jack was becoming painfully aware that these stolen moments here in the lab, sandwiched between missions and meals and briefings and the occasional need for sleep, were the only times Daniel was able to be who he'd trained to be his whole life. If their positions were reversed, Jack wasn't so sure he could spend his days cooped up in here staring at a book instead of being out there, moving and doing. But Daniel had been willing to give it up for Sha're, and he still seemed willing to do it even now that she was gone. In the end, Jack didn't need to understand it, he was simply grateful for it. Replacing Daniel on SG-1--well, it wasn't an option.

Not to say that there hadn't been times, particularly at the beginning, when Jack had had his doubts. Daniel was his friend, and Jack had every sympathy with his desire to be part of the team. Sha're was out there, and Jack couldn't blame him for not wanting to sit back on his ass and "consult" while someone else looked for her. But he'd wondered if Daniel really knew what he was offering himself for. Daniel had more than proven himself on the first mission to Abydos, but this would be different, a commitment for a long haul instead of one mission.

He wondered, now, why he'd even worried. Hammond had insisted on a training course before Daniel was allowed to officially join the team and Jack had watched Daniel keep up with everything asked of him. Bitching and moaning sometimes, and pausing occasionally to deliver unasked-for lectures on the cultural significance of military bonding rituals, but he'd kept up. Okay, he was still a geek, but a geek that could hit the target eight times out of ten, jog ten miles in full gear, and, most importantly, face whatever had to be faced without letting the team down. Jack had known career military officers who'd done less. He wouldn't have traded Daniel for any of them.

"--no, see, the beginning symbols repeat only when followed by one of these adverbial forms, like this one--"

Of course, he might one day be tempted to trade him for someone he could actually understand. Then Jack shook his head. Nah. Not for the world.

It occurred to him that there was probably something else he could be doing right now. After all, he was having a rare moment of actual free time, a chance to do anything he wanted for a couple of hours. He could go to the gym and work out a little, or go to the mess hall and have a cup of coffee, maybe even a mid-morning snack. Instead, he was sitting here in the corner of Daniel's office, listening to a conversation of which he followed about every third word.

He could have told himself that it was because he wanted to keep up with what his team was doing, that it was good leadership to be involved in as much of the day to day work of SG-1 as he could. He might have reminded himself that keeping an eye on two scientists studying alien artifacts from a different planet was in some ways simple prudence, especially considering what he'd seen some of those artifacts do. Or maybe it was because this stiff-backed, plasticine-covered chair was just so darn comfortable. All of them would have been about equally true.

Which is to say, not at all.

It wasn't as though he hadn't dealt with this sort of thing before. He was human, it happened. Colleagues became friends became close friends became closer friends--it happened. And Daniel...well, Daniel had always been a special case, hadn't he? Not a colleague, not a friend, but in one short mission had somehow made the leap past both, securing a place in Jack's mental picture of the world that vacillated between someone Jack really didn't even like very much and at the same time a man he'd trust with his life. Odd feelings, conflicting feelings, and they hadn't gotten any better after Jack had returned home.

The intervening years hadn't helped. Daniel was stubborn, incomprehensible, impractical, and way too smart for his own good. He was also Jack's best friend. And for the last two years, Jack had kept himself and any other inconvenient thoughts firmly on this side of that line in the sand.

"Jack. Jack, wake up."

"I'm awake," he said automatically, snapping his eyes open to stare up blearily at Daniel's face. "I was just--"

"--resting your eyes, I know." Daniel pointed to his watch. "It's ten-fifty. I thought we ought to head on down."

"Yeah, sure." Jack allowed himself a single yawn, then rose and looked around. "Where's Carter?"

"There are some tests she wants to run before we have to ship everything on to Area 51. She says she'll meet us in the Gate room."

"Okay." Jack gestured. "Lead on."

\-----

The visit to his family seemed have done Teal'c a lot of good. Not that the Jaffa's usual imperturbable expression had changed one whit, but to those that knew him there was a certain air of contentment about him as he strode down the ramp from the gate. _Must be nice,_ Jack caught himself thinking, and suppressed the sudden stab of longing with the ease of long practice.

"Colonel O'Neill. Major Carter. Doctor Jackson." Teal'c greeted each of them in turn, then followed the greeting with a single, formal handclasp.

"Missed us, huh?" Jack remarked as Teal'c let go of his arm, and surreptitiously flexed his fingers to return some of the feeling. "How's the family?"

"They are well. Drey'auc sends greetings, as does Rya'c. He asks when you will return to teach him more of your Earth games."

Despite himself, Jack grinned at the thought. "Soon," he promised, even as he wondered why it hadn't occurred to him to tag along on the vacation to start with. Teal'c had asked him if he wanted to go, and playing catch with Rya'c beat the hell out of filling out forms any old day. But, no, he'd stayed back and pushed paper and haunted his team's lab. Well, haunted Daniel's lab. Okay, haunted Daniel.

"Welcome back, Teal'c," he said, and followed the rest of the team to the door. "Once you get settled in, we've got a meeting. 1400 sharp."

"A new mission?" Teal'c looked interested, and Jack hid a smile. Vacation was all very well and good, but it seemed he wasn't the only one who was looking forward to getting back to work.

"We can only hope," Jack told him, and Teal'c nodded.

"I will be there."

\-----

The meeting started at 1400 on the dot, and Jack gave his assembled team a look of approval as General Hammond arrived to find them all in place, waiting.

"Good afternoon, SG-1," Hammond greeted them. "Glad to have you back."

"Glad to be back, sir," Jack said for all of them. "I take it you have something for us?"

"I do." But Hammond's face remained grave, and he made no move towards the map that usually indicated the team's next destination. Jack began to have a bad feeling. "But I'll tell you right away, this will be a different kind of mission." He took a deep breath. "It has to do with the quantum mirror."

Jack felt a definite twinge of pain. And it had started out to be such a promising day. "I thought we were going to destroy that thing," he said. "I mean, it was one thing having two Carters underfoot, but what if something really screws up and we get two Maybournes?" Even as he said it, he wished he'd managed to avoid that particular line of thought. "I don't think we could take it, sir."

"Quite frankly, Colonel, I don't, either. But the President doesn't agree."

Carter was frowning. "Sir, as much as we owe to those two alternate universes, we know now that ours is one of the very few where the Goa'uld don't rule Earth. We can't take the risk of leaving that mirror open to all those hostile worlds."

"Major, you're preaching to the choir." Hammond looked around the table. "I did order the mirror destroyed, and for nearly two months an entire team of scientists at Area 51 tried to find the means to do it. In all that time, they weren't able to so much as scratch it."

"Okay," Jack said, determined to be reasonable if it killed him. "Then we take a page from our own history and bury the thing, like they buried the Stargate."

"That would be the sensible thing to do," Hammond agreed. "Unfortunately, those are not the orders I've been given." He sat back. "In light of what has happened in the past with this mirror, the President and the Joint Chiefs feel that we could benefit greatly from the intelligence gained by visiting these alternate realities. They feel that by studying the progress of events in these other worlds, we could come to an understanding about our own."

"With all due respect, sir," Carter said, "I'm not so sure that's a good idea. We have no idea what kind of influences shaped the events in those worlds."

"Besides," Daniel inserted as she paused for breath, "isn't it a moot point, considering that I had to leave the control device behind in the reality I went into? There's no way for us to align the mirror."

"So we thought," Hammond told him. "But while they were attempting to find the means to destroy the mirror, the team at Area 51 found a backup control device on the mirror itself. So long as there was no way to use the mirror, it was an easy decision to destroy it to prevent it from being used against us. But now that we have the means to control it ourselves, the President feels that it's important to take advantage of whatever opportunities we might have."

"Yay for science," Jack muttered.

Daniel spared him a brief glare, then turned to Hammond. "General," he said. "So far we've been nothing more than plain old lucky that our contact with the other worlds has turned out to our advantage. It could easily have gone the other way."

Hammond looked sympathetic, but Jack knew that his mind was made up. Or, rather, that his mind had been made up for him. "Nonetheless," he said. "Starting tomorrow, SG-1 will be assigned the mission of exploring some of these alternate worlds. You'll have some time to prepare, and to decide how best to go about this, but the President expects a report by the end of two weeks. Dismissed."

\-----

"Couldn't we just stay here and say that we went?" Jack shoved his hands in his pockets and stared glumly at the blank surface of the mirror. "This is more trouble than a mission through the Stargate."

"I agree, sir," Carter said. "And unlike our missions through the Stargate, I think it's highly questionable whether or not we should even be going."

"The Chiefs have spoken, Major." Jack turned again and walked back to his seat next to Daniel's at the bench. "They say, 'Jump,' and we say 'Into which wildly bizarre alternate universe, sirs?'"

"Well, we're hoping it won't be that bizarre, Jack," Daniel told him, ever helpful. "To start with, we're only going to go to universes close to our own, where events shouldn't be that dissimilar."

Not exactly a reassuring thought. "Uh-huh. So we can run into ourselves and start doing that weird thing with the convulsions and the intense pain and cascading failsafes?"

"Entropic cascade failure, sir," Carter corrected mildly.

"Thank you, Major. But am I the only one who has a problem with meeting myself? You've done it, Carter, and so has Teal'c--" Jack glanced over at him. "--briefly. But so far I've been dead, and I'm not sure I'm that eager to meet me. I can be a real smartass."

"Well, I've never met myself either," Daniel said. "One thing that seems pretty constant in all the other worlds we've seen--"

"All two of them," Jack pointed out.

"Yes, all two of them," Daniel went on doggedly, "is that I never joined the SGC. In some of the worlds, we might even be able to assume that they never even discovered how to use the Stargate."

"In which case the mirror would still be on P3R-233," Carter interjected. "They never would have gone through the Stargate to find it."

"Exactly. Which means that we can probably rule out visiting those worlds, unless we want to try to activate that Stargate and come through back here."

"To be met with open arms and a hail of bullets," Jack said. "Assuming, that is, that the Stargate isn't still buried in Egypt, in which case we'll end up squashed like bugs. Which I hope wasn't the point of all this."

"No." For a second, Daniel looked distracted, until Jack cleared his throat meaningfully and recalled him back to planet Earth. "Sorry. I was just thinking about what could happen if we went to a reality close to our own, about the possibility of meeting four other identical members of SG-1."

"Uh-huh. And?"

"And I'm beginning to think that we should limit the mission. One member of the team only, two at the most."

"Send someone through the mirror alone?" Teal'c raised a brow. "That does not seem wise, Dr. Jackson."

"Think about it," Daniel persisted. "Jack said it just a minute ago."

"I did?"

"Yes. You weren't too happy about the prospect of meeting yourself, and I wouldn't think that any of the other Jacks and Sams would be any more eager to meet alternates of themselves."

"Daniel has a point," Carter said, a little reluctantly. "It wasn't that bad for me once I got used to it, but it was definitely a shock. If our goal is to communicate effectively with the people on the other side, it might be easier to explain the presence of a stranger, i.e. Daniel, rather than try to explain why there are two Samantha Carters or two Jack O'Neills."

"Okay, yeah, that could be awkward," Jack conceded. "But you're missing the obvious fact that going through that mirror alone is a bad plan."

"Why?" Daniel asked.

"Why?" Jack turned to him, eyebrows climbing. "You're talking about be-bopping into some alternate reality thing that we--and I'm using the 'we' generously--barely understand."

"Which might be why sending one person might be our best plan," Carter said unexpectedly. Jack turned to look at her, and she faced him squarely. "Sir," she said firmly, "almost everything we know about this mirror is purely theoretical. But we do know what happened when one person tried to coexist with a reality that wasn't hers. I can't even predict what the effect might be with four."

Jack shook his head. "I thought it was all right if we didn't stay longer than forty-eight hours."

"That's true for one person," Carter said slowly, her mind now clearly engaged with the new line of thought. "But what if we cross over and there _is_ an identical SG-1 on the other side? We don't know what could happen." She walked around the table, warming to the new theory. "Think about it. We've never seen more than one person at a time cross that mirror with a counterpart alive on the other side. If the entropy effect is cumulative, or if it increases exponentially, or both, then we could be looking at some serious consequences, sir."

"Such as?"

"At the very least, the same kind of cascade tremors that affected Dr. Carter while she was here." Jack made a face to show her how much he liked that idea. "At the worst, we could conceivably create a rift in the fabric of reality itself."

"And that would be bad," Jack guessed.

"To put it mildly, sir, yes."

"Great," Jack said. "So, any volunteers to be the lucky camper?"

He wasn't serious, but apparently Daniel was ready to take him at his word. "Yes." Daniel spoke up almost before the words left Jack's mouth. "Me."

"Daniel, I was kidding," Jack said patiently.

Daniel scarcely missed a beat. "Well, I'm not. I'm the logical choice. I'm the least likely to have a direct counterpart on the other side, and I'm also--pardon me, Teal'c--human. It makes sense."

It did make sense, at that. But Jack was damned if he was going to let any member of his team sashay into some strange alternate universe alone. He was about as eager to venture through that mirror again as he was to have a root canal, and that was exactly why he knew that he couldn't let anyone else go in his place. "Okay," he said. "Logic or not, this is still my team, and my mission. If anyone is going, it's going to be me."

Carter and Daniel spoke up at once.

"Colonel--"

"Jack--"

"Ah-ah!" Jack raised a finger. "I'm the Colonel, remember? And one of the perks of the job is getting to make these little command decisions." He pointed the finger to Daniel. "I will go, and Daniel will go with me." He swiveled to Carter. "Is that an acceptable risk, Major?"

"Sir, I don't know if it's an acceptable risk for _any_ of us to go." She shrugged. "But it can't hurt to cut those hypothetical odds in half."

Teal'c, though, didn't look persuaded. "I am uneasy with any plan which isolates members of the team," he said. "We cannot predict what dangers lie ahead of you."

"Well, we can't predict what dangers are on the other side of the Stargate," Daniel pointed out. "And yet, we still go."

Teal'c gave one of his long, thoughtful blinks. "Yes, Daniel Jackson," he said after a moment. "But we go together."

"I'm not happy about it either, Teal'c," Jack put in. "But if we're going to do it, I think this is the best way." _God help me,_ he added silently.

"Very well. Then I volunteer to replace one of you."

Jack's brows climbed up. "What? You don't trust me to keep Daniel out of trouble?" He considered for a second. "Or vice versa?"

"If there are dangers to be faced, then I wish to face them at your side."

There was nothing more that Jack would have liked, either, but Daniel and Carter had already gotten their oars in on this one. "Sorry, Teal'c," he said, hating it even as he said it, but knowing that there wasn't really any choice. "You know we can't chance it. If something goes wrong, better to have two people from _this_ planet for them to worry about."

Reluctantly, Teal'c inclined his head. "As you wish, Colonel O'Neill."

"That's the spirit, Teal'c."

\-----

From the personal journal of Daniel Jackson:

I've started to like the nights before a mission. Sometimes, anyway. The first few times I went through the Stargate, I used to spend the night before hopelessly awake, wondering if this time I'd find Sha're, wondering if I'd bring her back, or lose her again. But then the weeks and months passed, and the missions through the Stargate became, if not routine, then at least familiar. I found myself worrying less and less about Sha're, and wondering more what was waiting for me on the other side, what new wonder or terror we'd find that day

This mission is different, though. I can't deny that. My other trips through the quantum mirror were less than pleasant, but I still can't help wondering what we might find tomorrow. Another Jack O'Neill, another Daniel Jackson. There's no telling.

Of course, there's always the chance that we'll go to a world where even the most familiar is strange. I've already seen a world where Teal'c was the enemy, Sam a civilian, and me still a starving archaeologist. What about a world where Daniel Jackson is a soldier? Where Jack O'Neill is a scientist?

Where Charlie and Sha're are still alive.

Jack hasn't said anything about Charlie, no surprise there. He never talks about him, not even to me. I wonder if he ever did, if once Charlie was gone he coped with it by trying excise that part of him from his life. If that was his strategy, I don't think it's worked. Jack says he's dealt with it, but I think he knows, and I know, that it's not something that's ever really "dealt with."

I can't say that I haven't thought about Sha're, haven't considered the possibility of finding a world where she's still alive. And that's exactly why I think that mirror is dangerous. The temptation of living in a world where the tragedies of our past never happened, it's tremendous. And yet, I'm not sure that I want to go through that mirror to try to find her alive again. Sha're--my Sha're--is dead.

Sha're dead. I've said those words a hundred times, written them here trying to make them real. But it's not working. I'm beginning to suspect that it's because I'd already accepted her death a long time ago. It hurts to admit it, and I'm not proud of it. But I think that even while I clung to the hope that I would have a life with her again, a part of me was already mourning her death. I guess maybe it was the only way for the rest of me to go on. But she's dead now, and I'm finally having to face the rest of my life. Nothing's safe anymore. Nothing is going to bring her back to me. Even if I went out and found her somehow, in some alternate world, it wouldn't be my Sha're.

I've got to do something about Jack. While Sha're was alive, it was easy. I was still married, still faithful, and no one expected me to be any different. But that safety net is gone now. I don't have any excuses anymore, other than my own fear. Fear of what Jack might say. Fear that he'll say no.

Fear that he'll say yes.

I'm really no good at this. I didn't have to do this with Sha're, or even with Sarah, come to think of it, or anyone else. Sha're was handed to me, and I accepted the gift, simple as that. I didn't have to ask her, didn't have this terrible agony of indecision about whether or not _to_ ask. She offered love, and I took it like a thirsting man takes a cup of water, not really caring whose hand is doing the offering. I was just lucky that the hand was Sha're's. I used to lie awake some nights, feeling her breathe next to me, and wonder what I'd done to deserve that kind of happiness. Because I know that if Kasuf hadn't offered her to me, I would never have dared to even think that I could ask her to love me on my own.

It's so much harder than I thought it would be. I've thought about saying it a hundred times. Over pizza at Jack's place, over dinner here, up on Jack's roof looking at the stars, a hundred opportunities that I missed. A hundred chances to just turn to him and tell him what I feel.

But that's the problem, isn't it? I'd have to tell him. I'd have to say the words, be the first one to speak up. The first one to blink. And I don't know if I can. All I do know is that between me and Jack, if one of us is going to say anything, it's pretty much going to have to be me.

I know there must have been a time when I didn't feel this way about Jack. Whatever 'this way' is. That I love Jack goes without saying. I'm just not sure when the love I had for my best friend turned into...something else.

It certainly wasn't love at first sight. It wasn't even like. Jack didn't have much use for me back then, and I know there were moments during that first mission when I was tempted to bang his thick skull against a wall in an attempt to knock sense into him. There are moments when I still feel that way, come to think of it.

But even back then, it didn't take long for us to learn to respect one another, and even less time to become friends, of a sort. Seeing the way Jack treated Skaara and the other kids was an eye-opener. Even more so after I found out about Charlie. Everything made sense then, including why Jack was willing to die.

I don't think I'd ever met anyone living with that kind of despair, and I don't ever want to again. I know there were days, right after Sha're died, when I wished that the sun wouldn't rise in the morning, that the world would simply go away before dawn just so I wouldn't have to face another day knowing that she was never coming back. But I never really wanted to die, not like Jack did. I don't remember when things changed between us, but I do know that when I realized what he was going to do, I couldn't let him do it. Not only because I wanted to live, and wanted the people of Abydos to live, though those were good enough reasons, but because I wanted Jack to live. Even back then, I knew that there would be something important missing from my life if I never saw Jack O'Neill again.

Looking back, the actual moment of revelation was kind of an anti-climax. In any half-decent romantic scenario, I would have been trapped with Jack on a planet with no hope of escape, or facing certain death at the hands of our enemies, or some other drastic situation. At the least, it should have been the sight of Jack naked in the shower, or maybe even a half-dressed glimpse in the locker room. But we survived catastrophes and near-deaths, and views of Jack in the locker room were a regular event, and yet I still hadn't quite caught on. Instead, I happened to glance over one day during a briefing and saw Jack sitting next to me, leaning back in his chair with his cheek propped on his hand, doing his best impression of "A Man Listening Attentively." I thought, _Yep, I'm in love with him,_ and that was that.

I have to tell Jack how I feel. After this mission is over, I'm going to have to tell him. It's been long enough. I think I know Jack well enough now to know that I won't lose his friendship, or his respect. He loves me too much for that. Maybe it's not 'that' kind of love, but it is the kind of love that can handle this.

I hope.

\-----

Jack met the other members of the team in the lab at eight in the morning. More precisely, he met Carter and Teal'c in the lab at five minutes to eight, then waited the prescribed four minutes for Daniel to arrive. Daniel gave mumbled "Good morning"s to Carter and Teal'c, and exchanged pre-coffee grunts with Jack next to the coffeemaker. He looked tired, as if he hadn't slept well, but Jack didn't ask. Let him get that first cup of coffee into him, wait until his world was a better place.

Carter had been typing at the computer when Jack arrived and was still at it, her brow wrinkling as she studied the notes spread out beside her. She looked as though she hadn't slept any more than Daniel had, and she barely acknowledged Daniel's presence as he took a seat beside her. Jack saw Daniel glance at the notes nearest him, and give up after one look at the equations scribbled across the sheets.

"What are you working on, Sam?" Daniel finally asked, and got a raised finger while she finished typing from the sheets next to her. She hit the keys to save her work, then turned to them with the light of discovery in her eyes.

"Last night," she said, "I started thinking about this whole alternate universe problem. About what makes each reality unique, and why there doesn't seem to be any problem with going into a reality where our other self is dead, but trying to interact with ourselves causes rapid entropic cascade failure."

"And you've concluded...?" Jack asked, his bland drawl laced with the unspoken, _And you're wasting my time because...?_

For a second, Carter faltered. "Well, not much," she admitted. "About that. But I think I might be onto something else." She turned back to the computer, and started typing again. "One of the biggest problems with using the quantum mirror is that we don't have a completely reliable method for returning home. If the mirror gets shut off, then the person on the other side has to poke around at random until they find the way home."

"Yeah, we know that," Jack said. "It's not one of my fondest memories."

"Yes, sir. But if each reality is unique, then it stands to reason that there must be some kind of equally unique quantum signature associated with each one. If we can find that signature and isolate it, then we might be able to find a better way of controlling this mirror."

"Okay, that's a good thing," Jack conceded.

"I agree, sir. Which is why I'd like to ask that you bring back a sample from the other reality."

"A sample of what?" Daniel asked.

"Anything. A piece of paper, a glass, some dirt...anything that comes from that reality."

"Is that safe?" Jack asked warily.

"It should be. Both Daniel and Dr. Carter brought back a number of small items from other realities, and as far as we can tell nothing has happened to cause concern."

"'As far as we can tell,'" Jack repeated.

Teal'c finally spoke up from his stance against the wall. "If you already have samples from another reality, Major Carter, would it not be better to postpone the mission, at least until you have had a chance to test your theory."

"He's got a point, Major," Jack said, and waited.

She hesitated. "Sir, the kind of tests I'm talking about, it could take weeks before we get results, and maybe never. We'd have to postpone the mission indefinitely, and I don't think General Hammond would go for it." She stood up. "I did, however, come up with a slightly less technical solution to the problem of singling out our reality."

At her gesture, Daniel joined her next to the whiteboard that had been set up in the corner, and helped her maneuver it to face the mirror. She handed him a marker, and Jack frowned, puzzled, as Daniel grinned. "I get it," he said. "Breadcrumbs. Good idea, Sam." He turned to the board, and carefully drew something on the blank surface.

Jack paced around, and regarded the boxed spiral thoughtfully. "Breadcrumbs?" he inquired.

"It's the Egyptian hieroglyph for 'home,'" Daniel said. "Simple, but hopefully unique."

"If you have to turn off the mirror," Carter went on, "then all you have to do is look for that symbol to isolate the correct reality. It'll eliminate a lot of guesswork."

Jack nodded approvingly. "Not bad." He gestured to Daniel. "Come on, Daniel. Let's get this show on the road."

Their packs were waiting in the corner, and Jack checked his over one last time, a process that didn't take long. Apart from a few days' worth of supplies, there wasn't much else that any of them were willing to risk bringing through. There'd even been a short-lived debate about whether or not to take along sidearms, but Jack had quickly vetoed the notion of plunging into some unknown reality unarmed.

In a few minutes, they were ready. Carter had been adjusting the mirror while they worked, aligning it to the reality that they'd chosen the day before. It was close to their own, easily identifiable because of a chance arrangement of books and papers in the workroom where the mirror was stored. Most importantly, there was no sign of Goa'uld presence, and Jack sent up a quick prayer that that wouldn't change anytime soon. He adjusted his pack on his shoulders, and walked with Daniel to stand in front of the mirror.

Jack took a deep breath, looking at the world on the other side, and Daniel glanced over. "You sure you want to do it like this?" he asked. "It might be better if we went through together."

"Yep, I'm sure," Jack said firmly. "If something happens, I don't want both of us stuck there." Jack stepped forward, and brushed his fingers over the rough edges of the mirror, careful to avoid the center. "When I give the sign, you follow me." He turned and glared. "But not a second before, got it?"

"Got it."

"Okay." Jack faced the mirror again, then raised his hand and touched the smooth surface of the mirror itself.

It was like getting hit with a zat at point-blank range--an experience Jack was unfortunately all too familiar with. The shock ripped through him like a bolt of pure energy, his fingers burning and sparking even as he was thrown back by the force of the jolt. He cannoned into Daniel, and heard the other man give a shout of surprise as they both tumbled to the floor, Daniel throwing his arms around him in an attempt to break his fall. They landed with a jarring thud, and Jack heard Daniel grunt in pain as he crashed down on top of him. The noise was distant, though, fading rapidly under the roaring in his ears.

_I will not pass out,_ Jack told himself firmly, even as unconsciousness began to rush at him in a black tunnel. _I will _not_ pass...._

"Jack!" Daniel's voice floated down to him, tinny and distorted as though Jack was lying at the bottom of a deep well full of water. Everything was dark, and after a moment Jack realized that his eyes were closed. He opened them, and found Daniel staring down at him, his face at the center of the rapidly receding tunnel. Daniel moved, and a moment later Jack felt a brief, stinging slap on his cheek.

"Ow," he tried to say, but it came out as more of a mumbled croak. But the blackness was drawing back, and a moment later he was able to look up at Daniel, trying dizzily to focus on his face. "Ow," he said again, more emphatically, and Daniel cracked a tiny smile.

"Welcome back, Jack," he said. Jack squinted, trying to bring his blurred features into focus, then tried the speaking thing one more time.

"Whoa." His voice sounded strange, weak and hoarse, as though he'd just woken up. "Where'd I go?" He shut his eyes against a swell of nausea as Daniel shook his head, making Jack's world rock briefly.

"Nowhere," Carter's voice said from somewhere behind Daniel. "You didn't go through."

"I didn't?" Dizziness forgotten, Jack struggled to sit up, wanting to see for himself. Someone, Teal'c he thought, put a hand under his shoulder, and in a moment he was able to sit, staring blankly at the mirror across the room. "Are you sure?" he asked, despite the clear evidence to the contrary.

"We were observing you closely, O'Neill," Teal'c told him. "You remained in this room."

"Huh." Jack stared at mirror for a long, suspicious moment, then searched for Carter again. "So what the hell happened, Major? What went wrong?"

"I don't know, sir." Carter exchanged a worried glance with Daniel. "How do you feel?"

"Like I got nailed with a zat gun. Twice." Jack shook his head slowly, trying to clear some of the cobwebs away, but that proved to be a big mistake. "Whoa." He grabbed his head, trying to make the room slow down.

"Come on." Daniel reached down and, with Teal'c's assistance, pulled Jack to his feet. "We're taking you to the infirmary."

Jack might have argued, but the instant he tried to put his weight on his own feet he thought better of it. "Okay," he said, even as Daniel and Teal'c hastily caught his arms to keep him from falling over. "Okay, I think that's a good idea."

"I'll stay here and shut the mirror off," Carter offered.

"You do that," Jack told her. "Shut it off, cover it, blow the damn thing up."

"Yes, sir." Carter moved to the mirror, and Jack let himself be guided to the door.

Jack's head was clearing by the time they reached the infirmary, but that wasn't necessarily a bonus. His left hand hurt like hell, the tips of his fingers tingling and throbbing, and his arm ached all the way to his shoulder. Though he'd never have admitted it out loud, he was glad to sit down on one of the beds, and even gladder when Dr. Fraiser pushed him to lie back. The walk had made him more tired that he thought, and he closed his eyes, slipping into a half-doze while she examined him.

"Okay, Colonel," she said at last, and Jack peeled his eyes open. "You've got a couple of first-degree burns on your fingers, but nothing that won't heal in a couple of days. Does your arm still hurt?"

Jack flexed his shoulder experimentally, and found that the ache was almost gone. "Not much," he said. "A little sore, maybe." He looked up at her. "So, what the hell happened to me?"

"You got me, Colonel. It looks like you got a small jolt of electricity, but not enough to do any serious damage."

"'Small jolt?' Believe me, Doc, it did not feel like a small anything."

"What can I tell you? I'll do an EKG to make sure there was no damage to your heart, and I'd like to take an x-ray of your shoulder, but it looks like nothing more than a mild electric shock. You might have some muscle spasms in that arm for a few hours, but that should be all." She helped Jack sit up. "Come on. We'll finish up the tests, then I want you to lie down and get some rest."

"Doc, I feel fine."

"Tests first, then we'll see," she said firmly.

Jack scowled, but he didn't argue further. Truth be told, a nap didn't seem like such a bad idea at the moment. He swung his legs over the side of the bed, anyway, and waved to Teal'c and Daniel. "Why don't you two run along?" he suggested. "Go see how many theories Carter's cooked up to explain this?"

Neither of them budged. After a moment, Daniel cleared his throat. "I can stay here with Jack," he said to Teal'c. "Why don't you see if Sam needs any help?"

"Very well," Teal'c said, but he looked reluctant, and a little annoyed that Daniel had beaten him to the punch. But all he did was incline his head regally and leave.

After the x-rays and EKG, Dr. Fraiser made him lie down again, and Jack was tired enough not to resist. Daniel parked himself in the chair by his bed, and Jack spared him a look. "You don't have to stick around, Daniel," he said half-heartedly. "I think I'm going to live."

"Well, that's good to hear, because you look terrible. I've seen corpses with more color than you," Daniel told him.

"Thank you, Daniel." But Jack closed his eyes anyway, not up to arguing any more, and not sure that he wanted to. It was kind of nice having Daniel here. His own guardian archaeologist. "Daniel?" he said presently.

"Yes, Jack?"

"Any chance of a story?"

"Go to sleep, Jack."

Jack had no intention of doing anything as ridiculous as falling asleep in the middle of the morning--well, not without a long briefing or an extended stint with one of his scientists as a factor--but his body apparently had other ideas. He woke some time later, feeling as though he'd only just dropped off, but with the dazed and groggy sensation that only came with deep sleep. _Bizarre alternate-universe mirror: one,_ he thought muzzily. _O'Neill: zero._

Daniel was still there, though, his nose buried in a book, and Jack felt oddly cheered. He cleared his throat to get his attention, deciding it wasn't worth the effort to sit up.

"Hey, Jack. You're awake." Daniel shut the book, sliding off his chair to stand by Jack's bed. "How do you feel?"

"Better," Jack said after a moment's assessment. "What time is it?"

"A little past noon. You were out for quite a while."

"Yeah, I guess so." Now that he was awake, Jack tried sitting up, and was relieved that the room chose to stay solidly in one place.

"Hey, sleepyhead." Dr. Fraiser materialized at Daniel's side, appearing with the eerie precognition of her profession. "I was wondering if you were going to sleep all day," she said, and reached for his arm to inspect his blistered fingers. Jack made a face, but submitted to having his pulse and blood pressure and temperature checked all over again. When she was done, she consulted her clipboard and picked up a pen. "Who's the Vice-President?"

Jack blinked. "Excuse me?"

Dr. Fraiser raised her brows. "It's a question to see if you're oriented and alert, Colonel," she said gently.

"Oh, yeah. I knew that." To his surprise, though, Jack had to think a moment. "Um, Al Gore."

"The capital of Alabama?"

"Come on, Doc, I wouldn't know that on a good day."

That got him a smile. "Okay, tell me the capital of Illinois, then."

Ah, good choice. "Springfield," he said promptly.

She asked him several more questions, and behind her Jack saw Daniel frowning from time to time, as if he were worried. What about? For crying out loud, he'd answered every single one. Maybe he'd taken a couple of seconds, but so what? Not everyone was as quick off the buzzer as Mister Doctor of Archaeology.

Finally, though, the interrogation was over. Jack gave the doctor a look. "So, Doc, what's the verdict?"

"Well, your EKG and x-rays are perfectly normal, and apart from some understandable fatigue you seem to be physically fine."

Jack mouthed the word, "But."

"But, you still seem to be experiencing some mild disorientation. Nothing to be concerned about, and probably just a side effect of the shock. I've spoken to the General, and he's put you on stand-down for the rest of the day and tomorrow. I also think it would be a good idea if you didn't drive yourself."

"I can do that," Daniel volunteered.

"All right, thank you." Dr. Fraiser turned back to Jack. "The General asked for you to report as soon as I released you, but please make it short. Doctor's orders."

"Yes, ma'am."

She went on. "As soon as you get home, I want you to get some sleep. Drink plenty of fluids, and call me if your symptoms change or get any worse. I'll probably phone you tomorrow, make sure that you're still all right."

"Sure thing, Doc. Thanks." Jack slid off the bed, and checked to make sure the room was going to continue to stay put. "All right," he said. "Daniel, go tell Carter what's going on, and see how she's coming along with explaining what the hell happened. I'll brief the general and meet you there."

"You sure, Jack? You were pretty wobbly earlier."

Wobbly? Colonels didn't get "wobbly." _They just stride off into the sunset and fall over as soon as they're out of sight,_ Jack reminded himself cynically. "Yes, I'm sure," he said patiently. "I've had a nice nap, and I feel much better now, all right?"

Daniel didn't look entirely convinced, but he nodded. "All right, Jack. Take it easy."

"I will," Jack promised, and waved his hands. "Go."

The meeting with the general didn't take long, something for which Jack was grateful. He did feel better for his snooze, but it wasn't long before the thought of being able to go home and sleep for a couple of days became very, very inviting. "Hell of a way to spend my leave," he muttered to himself as he left Hammond's office and headed for the locker room.

His head was hurting by the time he got there, and he steeled himself for the usual end-of-week chaos that always seemed to accumulate in his locker around the end of a duty shift. He was mildly surprised to find, though, that it wasn't nearly as bad as he remembered. A couple of pairs of dirty socks, a T-shirt, and a single running shoe seemed to be the tally of the week, all of which he stuffed into a gym bag to take home. He changed into his street clothes, then picked up his jacket and prepared to leave.

As he shifted the jacket to his shoulder, though, something crinkled and fell out of the pocket. Jack bent to pick it up, and frowned as he saw the crumpled pack of cigarettes lying on the floor. _Where the hell did those come from?_ he wondered, picking them up and turning them over in his hands. His old brand, too. Maybe they were his after all, forgotten in his jacket until now, stuck in the lining or an inner pocket, overlooked. He checked the jacket cursorily for rips, then shrugged and put it on, tossing the cigarettes in the garbage.

Funny, how habits like that could change. Fifteen years as a dedicated smoker, and now Jack couldn't even stand the smell. He recalled, now, one of the first times he'd tried to quit, him and Kawalsky both making a pact to go cold turkey. They hadn't made it past the first bar. One lung-burning sniff of the nicotine-laced air, and they'd lit up within minutes. He'd cut back a lot after Charlie was born, mostly because of his own self-imposed rule not to smoke around the kid, but all that had gone out the window not long after Charlie's funeral.

All that was in the past, though. Jack had thrown away his last pack of cigarettes somewhere on Abydos--well, he thought he had--and hadn't touched one since. Just one more little turning point in his life from that mission. Going through the Stargate, finding Abydos, finding Ra, meeting Skaara, and Sha're...and Daniel. Turning point, indeed.

The mission had changed Jack's life. Saved his life, if he cared to admit it. After it was over, though, and he'd gone back into retirement, it hadn't taken long for him to start wondering if it had all really happened. It seemed so unreal, that so much could have happened in a just a few short days. That was when he'd bought the telescope, and started to look for Abydos again.

It had taken him weeks. Most of the astrophysical stuff had gone right over his head, and in practical terms it hadn't mattered much exactly how many jillions of light-years from Earth he was about to take his team. But after he got back, after he'd returned and left one particular member of his team behind, he knew that he had to see it for himself. Even if he had to learn astronomy to do it.

He'd never told Daniel, and he wasn't sure, now, why he hadn't. Daniel had been to his place about a hundred times, even been up on the roof to stargaze more than a few of those times, and yet Jack hadn't quite been able to bring himself to show him the star where he'd lived for over a year. In a way, he supposed, it had always been his little secret, a private indulgence that he'd allowed himself on those nights when the house was too empty, too lonely. When the days stretched out into a sameless blur, the clockwork-like proceedings of his divorce often the only thing that broke the monotony. Looking up at the little star, remembering it as the blazing sun on a world where he'd stood, had reminded him that there were bigger things in the universe than the problems of one Jack O'Neill. Odd to take comfort in his own insignificance, but back then, somehow, it had helped.

Well, it was about time to let the secret go. Daniel was here, now, and there was no need to keep looking for him half a galaxy away. Daniel would be there tonight, and there was no excuse anymore for not showing him. No excuse at all.

\-----

When Jack got to the lab, he found Carter pretty much where he'd left her, frowning at the computer with what looked like half a library of notes spread around her. Daniel was buried in another set of papers in the corner, and Teal'c was sitting at a bench, observing the proceedings with his usual attentive calm. The mirror and whiteboard were still there, but someone had tossed a tarp over them, hiding them from view. Jack was just as glad. He thought he could do without getting anywhere near that mirror for quite a while.

"Colonel." Carter slid off her stool, stepping up to meet him. "How are you feeling, sir?"

"Fine," he told her. "Just a little electric shock, according to Dr. Fraiser. A good night's sleep, and I'll be right as rain."

"Glad to hear it." She smiled, then the frown came back, and she shook her head, turning to gesture at the draped mirror. "I can't understand what happened. It's almost as though the mirror...rejected you."

"Rejected me?"

"I can't think of a better word. All I know is that you didn't travel to the other side, and whatever force came out of that mirror was enough to knock you across the room."

"Yeah, well, that much even I figured out."

"Maybe there was something wrong with the mirror in the reality we decided to visit," Daniel suggested, speaking up from his corner. "Maybe they have some kind of device to prevent other people from using it."

"If that's the case, I'd sure like to talk to them about it." Carter returned to the computer and hit a key to bring up her work again. "I've been running simulations all morning, trying to hypothesize what might have made the mirror behave that way. So far, all I've got are a bunch of theories with no facts to support them."

Jack nodded. "Well, as of now, it's not your problem anymore. General Hammond has to confer with the President about whether or not to continue experimenting with the mirror, so we're all officially off the assignment until we get word from him."

Carter looked distressed. "But sir, I still don't even know what happened. How can they make an informed decision without the facts?"

Jack's brows went up. "And you've been in the military how long, Major?"

"Point taken."

\-----

By the time he and Daniel got to the parking lot, Jack was more grateful than he wanted to admit for the lift. He checked to make sure his own car was locked, and told the guard on duty that he was leaving it there for a couple of days. Then he fell with relief into the passenger seat of Daniel's car and closed his eyes.

"Home, Jeeves," he said, and waved a hand to the front window.

"Your place or mine?" Daniel asked, and Jack turned his head to give him a look.

"Mine," he said after a moment. "Save you the trouble of taking me back later. Besides, there's something I want to show you." There, he'd said it, committed himself.

"Okay." Daniel agreed readily enough, and reached to fasten his seatbelt. "Oh, I almost forgot. The lighter's still doing that funny thing with blowing the fuses, so don't try it."

Jack hadn't planned on it, but he appreciated the information anyway. "Sure. I'll restrain myself." He folded his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. "I can probably fix that for you," he offered presently. "Save you paying an arm and a leg to a mechanic."

"You can?" Daniel's voice was oddly surprised, and Jack turned to look at him.

"Sure. It's probably a short in the wiring somewhere. Pain in the ass, but a mechanic will charge forty bucks an hour to track it down. I'm cheaper." Jack cocked a brow. "What's the matter? You don't believe me? Who kept that rolling junkpile on the road when we got tossed back into 1969?"

Now Daniel was frowning. "I guess I forgot," he said. "But thanks for the offer."

"Anytime," Jack said, and slouched back in the seat again as Daniel started the car and headed out.

Despite his earlier nap, Jack fell asleep almost before they'd left the parking lot, and didn't wake up until after Daniel had pulled into the driveway of his house. Even then, he stared blankly at the door of the garage for a long moment before recognizing it as his own. Way more tired than he thought. This was getting real old, real fast.

As he got out of the car, Jack heard Gordie barking from the pen in the back yard. Before he could even open his mouth to ask, Daniel was heading around the corner of the house. "I'll let him out into the yard," he said. "Unless you want me to bring him in."

Jack thought briefly of having a hundred pounds of black Lab hurtling around the house, and shook his head. "He'll be all right outside. Just make sure he's got food and water and all that stuff."

"Okay."

Making a mental promise to take Gordie on an extra-long walk in the morning, Jack went into the house. He dropped his keys carelessly on the counter, and tried to decide if he wanted to stay awake, or crawl in bed and sleep for fifty hours. At the moment, the last option was looking more and more attractive.

He settled for a compromise of sacking out on the couch, turning on the ball game to give him something to watch while he waited for Daniel to come back in. He wanted to talk to him, make sure that he'd stay. Not that Daniel seemed likely to leave anytime soon, but Jack wanted, tonight of all nights, to make sure.

As he stared at the screen, his eyelids began to droop again, and Jack cursed to himself tiredly. Maybe he should give in to it, sleep all damn day and to hell with it. So long as he could stay awake tonight, that was all that mattered. Jack closed his eyes.

\-----

When Jack woke up again, he wasn't sure, at first, what had roused him. Then he felt it again, the gentle whuff of air over his face that was Gordie's usual first stage of wake-up call. Good old Gordie, reliable as an alarm clock for those afternoon naps. Even as he thought it, though, his muzzy brain seemed to be trying to tell him that something was wrong with that assumption, something he was forgetting. But Jack wasn't going to wait until Gordie got to Stage Two, the Licking of the Face, to puzzle it out.

"Back off, Gordie," he mumbled, and reached up to push him off. "Go drool on something else for a minute." As he touched Gordie's head, though, the nagging thought finally came through, and he remembered that he'd asked Daniel to keep Gordie out. He also seemed to remember that, last time he checked, his dog didn't wear glasses. Jack opened his eyes.

"Woof, woof," Daniel said, grinning down at him.

"Oh, hey, Daniel." Jack focused blearily on his face, then turned his head to double-check, just in case he was still somehow missing Gordie's presence. "I thought you were the dog," he felt obliged to explain, even as it occurred to him to wonder briefly how long Daniel had been sitting there, close enough for Jack to feel him breathing on his face. Probably making sure he was still alive, which wasn't such an unreasonable precaution.

"Yeah, I noticed."

"Sorry." Jack realized, about then, that his hand was still on Daniel's face, fingers splayed lightly over Daniel's cheek. It wasn't until Daniel looked at him oddly, though, that he thought about how long he'd held it there, touching Daniel as if it was the most natural thing in the world. _Dangerous place to go, Jack,_ he thought, shoving the traitorous impulses aside, throwing up the mental "Off Limits" signs with familiar determination.

Trying to seem casual, he let his hand fell away and turned aside, pushing himself around to sit up on the couch. Daniel moved aside to let him, and within a second they were sitting on opposite ends of the couch, as far apart as if they'd never touched.

"Guess I dozed off," Jack said unnecessarily, and ran a hand through his hair. "What time is it?"

"Almost six," Daniel told him.

"Whoa." Jack scrubbed his hands over his face, then launched himself to his feet and stretched. "You hungry?" he asked.

"Yeah, I could eat."

"Great." Jack tossed his portable phone into Daniel's lap. "I'll go get the menus."

They ended up ordering Chinese, and ate it sitting in front of the television, watching the last innings of another baseball game. By the time the food and the game were finished, it was dark. Jack gave the sky an appraising glance as he came back from the kitchen with another beer, and gestured to the roof with the bottle. "Want to go up?" he asked, and Daniel nodded.

It was a beautiful night. Although astronomy hadn't been on his list of priorities when he bought the house, Jack had lucked out. He'd searched for a lot on the outskirts of town hoping for a quiet neighborhood and some privacy, but a side benefit of the location was that the light pollution from the city was reduced to a subdued glow behind the roof, perfect for stargazing.

Daniel was already halfway up the ladder by the time Jack finished checking the sky, and Jack stirred himself to follow. When he reached the roof, Daniel was standing there, staring up at the streaming trail of the Milky Way above them. Jack followed his gaze, feeling the familiar peace steal over him as he lifted his eyes. It didn't matter, Jack decided, how many of those stars he'd actually been to, how many of those tiny pinpoints had been the suns of worlds he'd walked on. From here, looking up, they were still awesome, cold and distant and beautiful.

He turned away while Daniel was still gazing, and busied himself adjusting the telescope. It didn't take long to find what he wanted, but he allowed Daniel another long moment to look up before tapping him on the shoulder. "Come here. I want you to see something." He did his best to keep his voice casual, but Daniel looked at him, clearly sensing something underneath, something that told him that this was more than just another star. He said nothing, though, simply took the chair Jack indicated and put his eye to the lens.

"Okay," he said, squinting into the lens. "What am I looking for?"

"Little fuzzy star, should be right at the center of the lens."

"Yeah," Daniel said presently. "Okay, I see it. Barely. What is it?"

"Abydos."

Daniel froze. Even in the dark, Jack saw his hand tighten on the base of the telescope, fingers clenching around the legs so hard that Jack was afraid he'd jerked the sights off-course. But then he leaned forward again, peering hard into the eyepiece. "Abydos," he repeated, and Jack cleared his throat.

"Yeah."

"My god." Daniel stared for a long time, watching silently until the star must have almost drifted out of the lens. "How did you find it?"

"I looked," Jack said simply, but he knew that Daniel knew better than that. To his relief, though, Daniel didn't make an issue of it. He turned his attention back to the telescope, and watched until Abydos had moved out of sight. He pulled back and sat up, staring out over the top of the telescope at the brilliant cluster of light.

"I take it that's what you brought me here for."

Jack shrugged. "Yeah." Suddenly tired of standing, he moved over to crouch on the slanted roof in front of the telescope. He propped his arms on his knees, letting his hands dangle between them. "I thought you might--" He paused, glad, suddenly, that Daniel wasn't able to see his face. Now that the time was here to actually say it, he wasn't so sure that this had been such a hot idea. What, after all, was left there for Daniel anyway? Nothing but Sha're's grave, a hole in the ground on a world thousands of light years from here. Yeah, like the small marble marker in the cemetery not ten miles from here was only a hunk of rock. A reminder, yes, of what had been lost. But sometimes reminders were good things. "I thought you might want to look at it," he said finally. "I mean, it's where...it's where Sha're is now."

For a long time, Daniel didn't speak. Then he asked, "Can you find it again?" Jack got up wordlessly, replacing Daniel at the telescope to make the minute adjustment needed to return Abydos to the lens. Daniel returned to his seat and put his eye to the sights again, this time saying nothing until it had drifted out of sight.

"Thank you, Jack," he said, after he'd lifted his face from the eyepiece. "This must have taken you hours. When did you find it?"

Jack had returned to his seat on the roof, watching Daniel's face carefully in the faint light. "After the first mission there," he said presently.

Daniel stared at him. "You're kidding. You've known it was there that long? Why didn't you show me before?"

Jack squirmed, hearing the faint rasp of the shingles under him. "I don't know. I guess I thought you wouldn't want to see it. You never asked." He paused again. "And I guess I really didn't think about it much myself after--"

"After what?" Daniel prompted.

In for a penny, in for a pound. "After you got back from there," Jack said. He tipped his face back, looking up at the glittering stars. There was a lot more he could have added, but he settled, finally, for telling the simple truth. "Once you were back here, there wasn't much reason for me to look anymore."

"Wow, Jack. Is that an admission that you actually missed me?"

Jack cleared his throat. "I was...concerned," he confessed, and saw Daniel's teeth flash in a smile.

"And I guess you figured that as long as Abydos's sun was still there, that would tell you that--"

"--you hadn't managed to destroy the solar system, yeah, yeah." Jack ducked his head, rubbing a hand over his eyebrow, then raised his eyes back to the heavens. "Hey, it passed the time."

Daniel didn't answer right away. Instead, he got up, moving over to where Jack sat on the slant of the roof, settling himself next to him on the sloped shingles. Jack inched over to make room, but when Daniel sat they were still very close, nearly shoulder to shoulder. Daniel joined Jack in staring up at the brilliant spread of stars, his eyes drifting to the place where he'd just seen Abydos. "Thank you, Jack," he said again. "That...helps."

Before he could think to censor the gesture, Jack put his hand on Daniel's arm, squeezing briefly. "Hey," he said gruffly. "What are friends for, right?"

Daniel smiled. "Right." Then his own hand was there, sliding over Jack's where it still rested on his arm. It was a rare gesture, the kind of touch that Daniel almost never offered, and Jack felt something thrill softly through him, in places that it had no business going. But he didn't pull away. _Don't make an issue of it,_ he told himself. _So long as neither of you actually says anything about it, it's okay._ And as long as they didn't say anything, he could sit here and feel the soft touch of Daniel's hand on his skin. They sat that way for a moment, then Daniel spoke.

"Jack, there's something I want to talk to you about. I guess this is as good a time as any."

Jack looked over at him, feeling the first knot of tension clench in his gut. "What's on your mind, Daniel?" he asked, as it were the most natural thing in the world, the two of them sitting here under the stars, hands linked over Daniel's arm.

"A lot of things," Daniel said presently. "Things I've thought about for a long time, things I've always pushed aside, or squashed down, or put off until I found Sha're. Well, I found her. I found her, and now she's gone. And all those things I put aside are all...." He raised his hands, breaking the contact almost carelessly to gesture at the space between his spread palms. "Right here." He swallowed, staring down at his hands, then seemed to change his mind. "Actually," he continued, and raised his hands, reaching slowly for Jack in the dark. "More to the point, right here."

Jack wanted to draw back, to resist, to deny what Daniel was about to do. But he couldn't move. Part of him was screaming that this was wrong, this was exactly the kind of thing he'd been trying to avoid, and he should back off, now, before it was too late. But the rest of him was glued to the spot, not daring to move for fear that Daniel wouldn't do what he seemed to be doing. Daniel's fingers brushed his cheek, and Jack closed his eyes. His hands were warm on Jack's face, the touch setting off a strange kind of chain reaction in Jack's stomach, one he wasn't sure he cared to analyze too closely. He forced himself to speak, to play dumb. "What are you talking about?"

Daniel breathed deep. "I'm talking about you, Jack." His fingers moved, tensing slightly on Jack's head, still cradling him in gentle warmth.

"Okay, I get that." That was better. Sarcasm reflexes kicking back in, hopefully in time to save him. "What about me?"

There was a brief hesitation. "You're my best friend, Jack. Ever since I've known you, you've always been there for me. I know I can count on you. And I hope that you know the same about me."

Jack willed the snappy retort to his lips, got as far as opening his mouth to say it. But there was something about being here in the dark with Daniel, faces hidden, their bodies nothing more than dim shapes in the shadows. It made it easier to say things, harder to throw up the old defenses, the sarcasm and disparaging cuts that had kept Daniel at the all-important distance for the last two years. Harder, too, with Daniel's hands framing his face, his touch as delicate and gentle as if Jack were one of his moldy old artifacts.

Finally, with an effort, Jack turned away, and Daniel let him, allowing him to slip free of the gentle grasp. Jack sat, staring straight ahead for a long second, wondering what to say, how to deflect the conversation away from the route Daniel was taking. "Well," he tried at last, "I admit, saving my life two or three times within the first two weeks we met kind of made a favorable impression."

That got him a faint smile. "I'm serious, Jack."

"So am I." Jack glanced at him, then away again. "Okay, so we're friends." Like hell. But he made himself go on anyway. "We've been friends a long time. So what's the problem?"

"The problem." Daniel thought for a moment. "I loved Sha're, Jack. I was willing to stay with her on Abydos forever, and I would have been happy there for the rest of my life. I loved her."

"I know," Jack said quietly, but inside he was thinking something very different. _Please, Daniel, don't do this,_ he begged silently. _Don't tell me these things, not here, not now._

Daniel ignored him. "I loved her," he said again. "And I still love her." He took a deep breath, and turned to Jack again. "But I loved you first."

"Oh, god." The words came out before Jack could stop them, an involuntary protest that he wasn't sure he even wanted to take back. He'd done it. He'd said it. Jack let his head fall between his knees, bringing his hands up to press against his forehead even as his heart skipped a beat in his chest, a rapid patter of thrill and longing and joy. Traitor. "Oh, god, Daniel. Daniel--"

"I mean it. I've felt this way for a long time, but so long as there was any hope of getting Sha're back, I felt like I couldn't say anything. I was married, it wouldn't have been right."

Worse and worse. "For crying out loud. Daniel--"

"Jack, please. Just listen to me." Daniel swallowed. "I know that it hasn't been that long since Sha're...died. But I've had a long time to think about this. Years, in fact. I can't tell you how many times I almost told you, and didn't. This isn't an impulse, or a crush, or a rebound. It's real, and I felt that I had to let you know."

"Daniel--"

"And I know," Daniel went on doggedly, overriding Jack's voice. "I know that you're in the military, and I'm sorry if my telling you this puts a strain on that. But you're my friend, and you deserve to know the truth, even if it conflicts with everything you've been taught or learned or whatever."

"Daniel--"

"So, if you'll--"

"Daniel, will you please shut up for a minute?" Jack turned to glare at him, until he was satisfied that Daniel was going to let him speak. "Thank you." He turned away again, and rubbed at his forehead with his left hand, thinking about what the hell he was going to say next.

On one level, it was almost a relief. He'd been agonizing over this moment for a long time now, and it was good to finally confront it, finally address the whole issue once and for all. God knows he'd rehearsed it often enough. So why the hell hadn't he thought about how hard it would be? Jack took a deep breath, and plunged in.

"Okay. Now's probably not the time to go into how I feel about that 'don't ask don't tell' bullshit, so let's just...put that aside. Okay?" Jack paused, gathering his thoughts again, assembling the long-practiced arguments in his head. "Bottom line. Whatever I might think, I don't think it's a good idea for us to have this conversation."

Daniel stared at him "Why the hell not?" he demanded.

"Why not?" Jack swallowed, forcing the rehearsed excuses to his lips. "Because you're a member of my team, that's why."

Daniel waited, but that was all Jack could stomach saying at once. "So?" He shook his head. "God, Jack, this is so like you."

"Like me how? Feeling responsible for you?" Jack glanced at him. "Believe me, that's something that the Air Force--and me--takes pretty seriously. So, it might be better to just stop this right here."

"I'm not in the Air Force," Daniel reminded. "I'm a civilian."

Damn, right for the loophole. Yeah, like he was surprised. "You think that makes a difference?" he countered feebly.

"It does to the regulations, or so I'm told. Constantly."

"That's not the point!" Jack almost shouted it, then turned away, bringing his hands up to press against his face.

"Then what is the point?" Jack couldn't answer, and Daniel went on. "Forgive me for saying so, but I think the point is that you haven't even considered the obvious way out of the whole problem."

"And that would be?"

Daniel swallowed. "Well, you could have told me that you don't feel the same way about me that I feel about you. I mean, that would make all this pretty much moot, now, wouldn't it?"

Oops. Dammit, dammit, why'd he even bothered to _try_ outthinking Daniel? "Yeah, okay," Jack said after a while, feeling the last shreds of his carefully laid plans slip between his fingers. "Okay, I could have said that." He cleared his throat. "All right. Daniel, I don't feel the same way about you that you feel about me."

"Uh, right. Nice try, Jack."

Well, it had been worth a shot. "Dammit," he asked tiredly. "What do you want from me?"

"Just the truth." Daniel reached out, putting his hand on Jack's shoulder. Twice in one day. He squeezed gently, and Jack tensed under his hand, resisting the promise of that touch. But then Daniel squeezed again, rubbing his thumb over the back of his neck, and Jack felt something let go, felt a warm trickle of something he dared not even think about run all the way down to his shoes.

The truth? The truth was exactly what Jack had been trying to avoid all this time. The truth being that Jack didn't want to think about what his life might be like right now without Daniel Jackson in it. Hell, that he might not even _be_ alive without him. It had been a long, horrible, lonely year after he'd left Abydos, and it hadn't taken much to realize that it wasn't only the mission that he was missing. Daniel had stirred something in him, a curiosity, a fire, call it whatever you wanted. And after he was gone, Jack had missed him.

Strange thing to think about a man he'd known for all of a couple of weeks, but there it was. Soldier and scientist, doer and thinker, colonel and civilian, and yet they'd bonded. Not Jack's favorite expression, but there it was. He had bonded with Daniel, learned to think with him and to like him and, god help him, to trust him. Not that it hadn't happened before, but never with someone who was so different, someone who'd lived a life that Jack had always shied away from.

He tried one last time, determined to say something, anything, that would stop this before it went too far, before all those carefully constructed barriers crumbled. But when he opened his mouth, he found that he couldn't say a word. He didn't make any other protest, didn't resist as Daniel moved his hand, putting gentle pressure on his neck to turn his head to face him. Daniel raised his other hand, threading his fingers through the fine hairs at Jack's temple, curving his palm to cup Jack's jaw. Still Jack did nothing, simply sat there and allowed Daniel to touch him, their faces bent close in the chilly dark.

"The truth is, you've thought a lot about this, too," Daniel told him. "You've had all those answers lined up for a long time."

"No, I haven't," Jack denied quickly, falling back on a lie in desperation. "That was just...logic."

"Logic." Daniel let his fingers caress the nape of Jack's neck again, and Jack shivered a little under the touch. His mouth curved into a smile. "And you're so well-known for your logic, Jack."

"Hey, I have depths," Jack said, but his voice sounded oddly hoarse. His face seemed to be nearer to Daniel's now, but he was certain that Daniel wasn't the one who had moved.

"Uh-huh. But lying isn't one of them." They were very close now, Jack's face still held between Daniel's hands like a fragile piece of glass.

"I happen," Jack said quietly, "to be a great liar." He all but breathed the last words into Daniel's mouth, and to his relief Daniel didn't wait any longer. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them with a kiss.

Daniel's mouth was everything he'd never even dared imagine, the lips soft and warm against his, cautious at first, then investigating gently until Jack yielded, letting Daniel explore his fill. A small part of him was protesting, asking him what the hell he thought he was doing, letting himself do this with a member of his team, with Daniel, no less, but right at the moment, with Daniel's mouth on his, it didn't seem so important any more. Instead, there was only the delightful sensation of his lips against Daniel's, the sweet ache building in his body, swelling and spreading with the slow, gentle glide of his mouth against Daniel's.

When Daniel finally ended it, Jack's mouth was warm and tingling from the gentle pressure of Daniel's lips on his. He let out a breath he wasn't even aware he'd been holding, and heard Daniel draw in a deep breath of his own, waiting. Finally, Jack found the words to speak. "Daniel," he said tiredly, his voice almost a whisper, his mouth still close enough to Daniel's for him to feel the other man's breath. "Dammit, why'd you have to go and do that? You always have to push it that one step too far."

"I'm sorry, Jack," Daniel said, unconsciously matching Jack's whisper, but not sounding sorry at all. "If you want, we can forget it ever happened."

But Jack shook his head. "Don't you dare," he said harshly, and grabbed Daniel's head to pull him into another kiss.

There was a moment, a brief instant when Jack's lips hovered just short of Daniel's, their mouths a heartbeat away from contact. A faint voice of reason was beginning to soak in, and Jack heeded it for perhaps a second. Then he touched Daniel's lips with his tongue, licking a single soft stroke along the line of Daniel's lower lip. Daniel shivered, and Jack did it again, the tip of his tongue lightly tracing the line of Daniel's mouth. Jack explored gently at his mouth for another moment, then Daniel parted his lips, tilting his head so that Jack's tongue slipped into his mouth. Jack kissed him deeply for a single, endless moment, then pulled back, breathing hard.

"Okay, dammit," he said. "You got your answer. You satisfied?" Daniel nodded mutely. Jack sighed. "Dammit, Daniel," he said, "why couldn't you just take a friggin' lie for an answer?"

After that, things got a little confused. Once he'd started kissing Daniel, it was hard to stop. The shingles were digging into his butt, his feet kept slipping on the gutter, and there was definitely something awkward going on with their knees, but all those petty discomforts melted away as he felt the liquid heat of Daniel's tongue against his lips. Jack heard himself make a quiet, longing sound, his hands sliding up to grip the back of Daniel's head as he opened his mouth, surrendering himself to the incredible sensation of Daniel's kiss.

Their knees bumped again, and Jack got his hands in the back of Daniel's jacket, tugging him along as he lay back against the slope of the roof. He pulled Daniel down on top of him, and felt the other man give a sharp, breathless gasp as his knee slipped between Jack's legs. Then Daniel moved, bringing his thigh up to press softly against Jack's aching groin, and it was his turn to gasp, the sensation flooding through him like a dam bursting. Oh, god, this was he wanted, what he'd wanted for so long. To feel Daniel's body on his, to hold him and kiss him and run his fingers through the smooth gloss of his hair. Short, now, but still soft as silk under his hands. Jack wound his fingers in as much of it as he could and pulled Daniel closer, determined not to waste a single moment.

Eventually, though, they found it necessary to move. The locale under the stars was nice and romantic, but Jack quickly decided that he'd trade romance for somewhere a little warmer, and definitely more private. But, once they'd reached the living room, Jack found himself hesitating. This was it. Last chance to back out, to do what he'd always planned to do, should this moment ever arise. _This is a mistake,_ his little voice warned him. _No matter how much you might want it, no matter how much he wants it, it's still a mistake._ Jack looked into the dim shadows of Daniel's face, searching for the words to say it, to call this off before it went too far. Then Daniel's hand moved, fingers curving around Jack's wrist, and the words melted away, unspoken. Jack turned and, without another word, led Daniel back through the house.

In the bedroom, though, Jack hesitated again, not entirely sure what he was supposed to do next. Twelve years of marriage, and he'd almost forgotten how to act when it was the first time. Not that there hadn't been others since then, but this was different. This was Daniel. He turned to face him, wondering what to do, where to go next. Slowly, without him consciously willing himself to do so, he saw his own hand reach up, fingers touching the edge of Daniel's jacket. He fingered the cloth for a moment, feeling the heavy, smooth texture, then pulled it aside, pushing until his hand could slip underneath, sliding over Daniel's shoulder. Daniel was still fully clothed, layers of sweater and shirt and T-shirt still between Jack's hand and his skin, but Jack could still feel the shape of him, the heat of his body rising under his palm.

Jack suddenly ached to touch that body, to feel his hands on bare skin instead of cloth, to wrap himself in that blessed warmth. He raised his other hand and mirrored the first gesture, sliding Daniel's jacket off his shoulders. The soft thump of the heavy cloth hitting the floor made them both start, and Daniel's breath caught in his throat, his chest rising in a soft gasp as Jack's hands slipped over his shoulders. It was as if Jack had taken away more than just a single layer of clothing, as if the act of removing it had dropped the last of the barriers between them. In a way, Jack supposed it had. Jack stood for a moment, frozen, then slowly stepped forward, sliding his arms around Daniel's waist, pulling him gently to him until they finally touched.

If anyone had ever told him that it was possible to be so turned on without so much as brushing bare skin, Jack wouldn't have believed them. Not until now. He and Daniel were pressed close, body to body, every inch of his skin aching with the need to be closer, to feel more than just the tantalizing outline of Daniel's shape under his sweater and slacks. Then Daniel's mouth was on his, sweet and soft and unbearably hot, and Jack heard something close to a helpless whimper escape his lips.

As if the sound had freed him, Daniel's hands began to move, groping down over Jack's back, encouraging Jack to do the same. Jack made a soft noise of his own as Daniel's hands curved up to his shoulders, then another as one hand snaked back down to grip briefly at his hip. Daniel's hands were all over him, in fact, roaming boldly and unashamedly everywhere he could touch, strong fingers squeezing and caressing leisurely until Jack felt thoroughly explored, his skin beginning to burn under his clothes. Jack lost track of time while they stood there, slowly kissing, groping and touching and caressing while the minutes ticked by, unheeded.

Eventually, Daniel's fingers teased under the hem of Jack's sweater, working through the layers of shirt and T-shirt until his hand finally brushed Jack's bare back. Jack jerked as if he'd been electrified, his mouth stilling briefly against Daniel's as the thrilling shock of the touch went right through him. Then Daniel spread his hand on the small of Jack's back, gently caressing his spine, and Jack shivered in his arms, liquid pleasure running down his body with every brush of those clever fingers. Daniel did it again, his fingers dipping briefly under the waist of Jack's pants, and Jack knew he couldn't take this much longer. He had to touch Daniel like he wanted to be touched, body to body, nothing but naked skin between them. Blind with need, Jack pushed Daniel away, tearing their mouths apart, stepping back until they were alone, separate.

Daniel was staring at him numbly, his eyes wide and not a little confused, his chest still heaving with his breath. He looked as though he was trying to say something, but his mouth closed abruptly on the unspoken words as Jack reached for the hem of his own sweater. He stripped it over his head, locking his eyes with Daniel's as he let the heavy wool fall to the floor beside him. The shirt and T-shirt were next, and he saw Daniel swallow, his eyes fastening eagerly on Jack's skin as it was exposed.

Slowly, piece by piece, Jack stripped in front of him, removing each article of clothing with the same deliberate care, then discarding it on the floor around him. He was naked to the waist now, his chest rising and falling with his breath, feeling Daniel's eyes on him as surely as he felt the soft chill of the air on his bared skin. Daniel exhaled slowly as Jack let his trousers fall, and his eyes moved down, watching unabashed as Jack pulled his underwear down over his hips, leaving himself naked to Daniel's hungry gaze. Daniel's breath caught again, and Jack felt his cock leap, lifting under the heat of Daniel's stare.

It should have been embarrassing, standing here naked while Daniel stared at him, his whole body exposed and vulnerable to Daniel's eyes. Then Daniel looked him up and down again, his expression rapt, and Jack felt heat steal over him, as if Daniel's gaze was somehow tangible, his skin flushing with arousal. This was what he wanted Daniel to see. No barriers, no words, no pretenses. He didn't need it, not with Daniel, who knew him better than anyone else. It was relief to let it all go, to let Daniel see him like this. A relief, and also frightening as hell.

Even as the thought was racing through Jack's mind, Daniel was coming closer. He had an intent look on his face, one that Jack knew he had seen before, but was hard-pressed to place. Then Daniel reached out, his hands caressing softly down the outsides of Jack's arms, and Jack remembered where he'd seen that look before. He saw it damn near every day, each time Daniel ran his hands over some new and fascinating artifact. Only, right now Jack was that artifact, being touched with that same delicate attention. It was all he could do not to moan out loud, remembering all the times he'd watched Daniel work, and thought very hard about _not_ thinking about what those hands would feel like on his own body. Well, now he was finding out.

His skin tingled with heat where Daniel had touched him, the blood rushing to fill his already swollen cock. He looked down, dazed, to watch Daniel splay his big, beautiful hands across his chest and his stomach, combing his fingers through the hair on Jack's chest, then rubbing a thumb softly over each nipple. Jack did moan then, a breathless exhalation of sound that he wasn't even aware of making until he heard it emerge from his throat. Daniel did it again, his own breath coming quick and even while he bent, absorbed, to his task.

Daniel's hands slipped around his waist, still caressing, exploring, and Jack closed his eyes as his palms skated lightly over the curve of his buttocks, down his thighs and then back. Jack's body caught fire, his breath leaving him in a single sharp gasp as Daniel's hands settled firmly on his ass, fingers massaging and squeezing as he slowly drew Jack closer.

Jack put his arms around him, both for the pleasure of holding him, and to help his oddly unsteady knees support his weight. Daniel caressed him again, fingers skittering along the base of Jack's spine, and Jack's bones melted. He didn't remember moving, but there was suddenly a cool, blessedly solid wall against his back, holding him up, while Daniel leaned in and fastened his mouth on his, kissing him until he, quite literally, saw stars.

Jack had a vague notion that he'd somehow lost control of this situation, that somewhere under the sluggish lust-dazed current of his thoughts was a part of him wondering where the shy, geeky scholar he'd known as Daniel Jackson had gone to. Not that he minded that much standing here and letting it happen, letting someone else take charge for a little while, but he couldn't seem to muster the strength to return the favor.

Then Daniel shifted his grip, his mouth leaving Jack's to kiss his neck, then his shoulder, then his chest, moving slowly down Jack's body, and Jack decided, as Daniel's mouth closed firmly around the head of his cock, that reciprocation could maybe wait for a few more minutes. Then Daniel's tongue did something slick and wonderful to the crown of his shaft, and Jack's thoughts dissolved into a warm fugue of pure desire.

A few moments ago, Jack wouldn't have thought it was possible for him to get any more turned on without losing it altogether, but Daniel was busy proving him a liar. His body was still singing from the pleasure of Daniel's caresses, but now that pleasure was focusing somewhere else, racing down to follow the incredible sensation of Daniel's mouth on his cock.

Before long, though, Daniel drew away, Jack letting out a sound that was close to a whimper as his lips slid off the end of his shaft, leaving him hard and aching. He leaned against the wall for a long moment, eyes closed while he waiting for the blood to stop pounding in his ears. When he opened them again, Daniel was naked, standing in front of him with a strange, almost closed expression on his face.

Any other time, Jack would have taken the time to appreciate the sight, to run his hands over that tawny, smooth skin, to explore the lines and curves and angles of the body he'd tried so hard not to dream about. But his own need was beating hard in his body, his skin painfully alive with the passion Daniel had already stirred, and he knew that careful reconnaissance was going to have come at another time. Right now, all he cared about was the heat rising between them, and he was determined that Daniel was going to feel it, too.

Daniel met him halfway, joining Jack in a fierce, hard embrace that turned quickly into a long and desperate kiss. Jack nearly gasped out loud with the shock of the contact, his body unprepared for the feel of the silky heat of Daniel's skin. This was what he'd longed for, all this time, what he'd never even dared allowed himself to imagine having. Daniel's arms tightened around him, and Jack felt him give a long, shuddering sigh, as if he'd been afraid until that moment that this was actually happening. Jack knew exactly how he felt.

At some point, Jack had a hazy recollection of guiding them both to the bed, of falling down on the rumpled covers with Daniel in his arms, kissing and caressing until they were both flushed and panting, barely able to catch their breath. Daniel was hard as a rock against him, his shaft pulsing against Jack's thigh, his own hip grinding steadily along Jack's own aching length. They were getting close, and Jack could happily have ended it like this, wrapped up in Daniel's arms, driving against his beautiful body, feeling his hard cock right alongside his own. It would be satisfying, good and hot and sweet, but it wasn't what Jack wanted.

He groped behind himself, catching Daniel's wrist and bringing his hand up between them. Daniel watched him, breathing hard while his eyes followed curiously. Jack slid his hand up to hold Daniel's, curving his thumb over his palm to bring Daniel's fingers to his mouth. He kissed the tip of each finger, slowly and tenderly, then bent forward and sucked the first two fingers into his mouth. Daniel caught his breath at the caress, his cock pulsing against Jack's stomach as Jack began licking the fingers in his mouth, covering each one carefully with long, wet strokes of his tongue. Then Jack let the fingers slide out, keeping his delicate hold of Daniel's hand, and moved his arm back to slide the first slick finger down the cleft of his spine.

For a moment, Daniel actually stopped breathing. His eyes widened, the clear blue irises almost vanishing as his pupils dilated with sudden lust, and Jack felt his own breath catch in his throat. Daniel stroked him gently, letting his fingers trail down the sweat-soaked cleft, and Jack closed his eyes as he rubbed a wet fingertip over the hot cluster of nerves. He pushed in, slowly, and Jack couldn't hold back a groan as he felt himself open at once, the finger sliding in with a skin-flushing rush of friction. Daniel's other hand stroked his buttocks, the fingers shaking ever so slightly, then he gripped him, hard, and caught Jack's mouth in a deep, longing kiss. He moved his hand, sliding the finger in and out, once, and Jack almost crushed him in his embrace, his arms locking tight around Daniel's back until he realized the other man was having trouble breathing. Jack relaxed his grip, and shivered as Daniel slid his hand free.

Daniel was still panting, his mouth working as he tried to speak. It took him a couple of tries, but he finally managed to get his voice working. "Uh, where...?" was all he seemed capable of getting out, and Jack jerked his head to the side of the bed.

"Nightstand," he croaked, amazed that he could even form the thought, much less say it.

"Right." Daniel pulled away, leaving Jack alone for a long, aching moment. Some part of Jack that was still capable of reason told him that he might want to roll on his stomach, and he did so, propping his head on his arms while Daniel worked his way to the head of the bed. There was a jerk, then a loud clatter, and Daniel's voice floated back to him, cursing feelingly. Then Daniel was back, and Jack closed his eyes as he felt the first slick exploration between his legs.

He'd worried briefly, in the part of his mind that was still capable of worry, about how much Daniel knew about what he was doing, but the worries melted away at the first gentle touch. Daniel was exquisitely careful, his fingers nimble and sure, and Jack arched his back as the last finger slid in, pushing himself onto the probing digits with a deep groan. He was ready, more than ready, open and relaxed and waiting, even as the rest of his body shook with effort of holding in his pent-up desire. _Please...,_ he pleaded silently, and only realized when he heard the word that he'd spoken aloud. He was mortified, embarrassed to be caught doing anything as undignified as begging, but it got him what he wanted.

Jack's body melted into the mattress as Daniel finally slid into him, his legs spreading wide until Daniel was settled against him, the full length of his cock seated firmly in Jack's body. Daniel gave him a moment to get used to it, to savor the stretch of his muscles around the thick shaft, then he pulled out slowly, drawing himself from Jack's body with agonizing care. Jack shivered, his legs trembling from the delicious, heated, friction, then moaned into the covers as Daniel pushed back in, filling him up all over again.

_This is Daniel,_ he told himself dazedly. _This is Daniel, inside me, and with any luck at all he's almost ready to nail me through this mattress. I hope._ As if he'd heard, Daniel made two more thrusts, a little faster, a little harder, and Jack heard his own voice break in a long, panting cry, his hands clawing at the sheets. His body was a tight, hot sheath around Daniel's cock, throbbing around him in time to the harsh pounding of Jack's own heartbeat. Daniel thrust in again, working himself as far inside as he could, Jack pushing back to help, his knees sprawled wide on the covers as he opened himself for Daniel, asking for more. He clenched the sheets in his fists again as Daniel drew back, then cried out in an agony of relief as Daniel began to thrust.

After the first thrusts, Jack forgot everything else. Nothing in the world existed but the two of them, nothing mattered except the friction of Daniel's cock going in and out of his ass. He was getting what he wanted, his body driven hard against the bed, Daniel making no allowances, no apologies. He knew exactly what Jack wanted from him, knew it without having to ask, without having to be told, and the thought alone was enough to send Jack close to the edge, waiting for the beautiful, delicious pounding he was getting to send him over. Daniel was braced over him on all fours, driving into him until Jack cried out under him, his hips shivering as he spent himself onto the sheets, coming helplessly over and over while Daniel drove himself to his own finish. He finally poured into Jack with a gasp of release, both of them barely able to breathe until the long, shattering orgasm had passed.

\-----

It was late. They were still wrapped up together in the bed, Jack sprawled lazily on his back while Daniel's hands idly explored, fingers tracing along his arms and chest. Jack was still enjoying the nice erotic haze from their lovemaking, helped along by the leisurely, slow kisses that they traded whenever it seemed handy. At the moment, though, Daniel had found something else to occupy him. _Typical scientist,_ Jack thought drowsily. _Always asking questions._ Still, he didn't move from his comfortable spot, his eyes half-closed as Daniel traced a finger along his forearm. "And this one?" Daniel was asking.

"Gulf War," Jack told him. "Hit some razor-wire on the way down."

"Ouch." Daniel's fingers moved on. "What about this one? Same time?"

"Yep."

"And...this?"

"Knife. Bangkok, as I recall."

"Bangkok? When were you in Bangkok?"

"When I was doing highly classified work for the Air Force that I can't talk about," Jack said mildly, his eyes by now completely closed.

"Oh." Daniel shifted his attention from Jack's arm, leaning forward to run his fingers over his chest. "And this one?"

Jack peeled an eye open to look. "Uh, Afghanistan, I think. Yeah. No, wait. I got that in Germany. Took a bullet in the ribs pulling back from that damned cocked-up mission."

"Sorry." Daniel kissed it softly, and Jack lifted a hand, running his fingers briefly through Daniel's hair.

"S'okay. Long time ago, Daniel."

Daniel let his finger trace on, moving from the puckered scar of the bullet to another, fainter line just under Jack's ribs. Jack sucked in a breath as he touched him there, then relaxed as Daniel pressed an apologetic kiss to the spot. "What about this?" Daniel asked, and Jack snorted with suppressed laughter.

"Boy, you do want all my secrets, don't you?" But Jack caressed Daniel's neck, trying to take the sting out of the words. "Jump school. My very first jump, in fact. I hit a crosswind the last three hundred yards, damn near tangled my chute, and went right into the top of the only tree for three miles."

Daniel laughed. "And they still passed you?"

"I was the only one who didn't break anything. I survived, therefore I passed." Jack paused. "Story of my life, I guess." And that story was written all over his body, a map of knife wounds and bullet holes and broken bones. A story, he was only now realizing, that he was allowing Daniel to read cover to cover, hiding nothing. For the first time, Jack actually felt naked, and then wondered why the thought didn't seem to bother him. Maybe it was because Daniel already knew the important things, knew the dark secrets and hidden pains and old wounds. Most of them. This stuff, it was only a few little marks, like the scrapes and dents on an old plane.

_Watch it, Jack,_ he told himself, smiling even as he thought it. _Using the o-word again. You're only as old as you feel, right?_

If Daniel noticed the smile, he didn't say anything, only continued his leisurely study of Jack's body. It was actually kind of nice, having all that exploratory zeal directed at him for once.

"I'm noticing a trend here," Daniel said at last, and Jack opened his eyes again, granting him a sleepily quizzical look.

Daniel put a hand on Jack's chest, rubbing his palm over the softly curling fur, moving down to make a slow circle on the flat plane of his stomach. "You only seem to get hit from the front," he said. "Don't you ever run away from things trying to hurt you?"

"I try...." Jack drawled in reply, then his smile faded. The hand that wasn't resting on Daniel's back crept up to his own neck, unconsciously feeling for the faint line at the base of his skull. Then he stopped himself, and forced his hand back to his side.

"Sorry," Daniel said quietly, and a moment later Jack felt the soft brush of his lips on his cheek. It was nice.

"It's okay," he said, and slid his arms around Daniel again in a snug embrace. "I survived."

"Yeah. You did."

They lay like that for a while, holding each other, and Jack felt his eyes begin to drift shut. He didn't really want to sleep, didn't want to end the warm contentment of this moment. His arms around Daniel, Daniel's around him, their breathing mingling in the quiet stillness. Then Daniel's breath caught in a faint snore, and Jack knew he was about to lose the battle. He turned over, keeping Daniel at his back, pulling Daniel's arm around him until Daniel was draped against him like a warm, snoring blanket. Jack lay for a while, enjoying the cozy bulk of Daniel's body at his back, keeping him warm. Keeping him safe. Then Jack closed his eyes and went to sleep.

\-----

Jack never set the alarm on his days off. Six a.m. was his wake-up call, rain or shine. It was a shock to open his eyes and see 8:19 shining from the clock on the nightstand. Despite the late hour, though, Jack didn't much feel like getting out of bed. Most days, when he was up, he wanted to _be_ up, moving and doing and getting ready for the day. Most days, though, staying in bed wasn't this much of an attraction.

He'd slept with Daniel last night. He'd had _sex_ with Daniel last night. His best friend, his teammate. There were a hundred and one good reasons why he shouldn't have, reasons he'd rehearsed to himself about a thousand times over the last couple of years. Damned if he could think of a single one this morning, though. This morning, it was just Daniel's body next to his, warm and heavy with sleep. Daniel's face was half-buried in the pillow, his breath sighing softly against Jack's shoulder. All Jack could do was wonder why they hadn't done this a long time ago.

Even the allure of Daniel's arms wasn't enough to keep him in bed forever, though. As the clock finally ticked over to nine, Jack wormed himself free and got up.

After a quick shower, coffee was the first order of business. Jack had seen Daniel before his first cup, and it wasn't a pretty sight. He snuck back into the bedroom and hastily found some sweats and a T-shirt that hadn't made it from the hamper back into the drawer yet. He pulled them on and went back out, heading for the kitchen. Next stop, coffee.

Daniel hadn't shown any signs of stirring, but Jack had barely had time to measure grounds into the filter and fill the pot with water when he heard a shuffling step in the hall. A moment later Daniel slouched into the kitchen, wearing the twin brothers of the clothes Jack had on. Cute.

This was the kind of stuff Jack was no good at. He'd had breakfast with Daniel in this kitchen at least fifty times, and suddenly he had no idea what he was supposed to do next. For a single, hideous second, he didn't know what to say, then emergency reflexes kicked in.

"Hey, Daniel," he heard himself say. "Just in time." He closed the top of the coffee maker and flipped the switch. "Extra-strong, just for you."

Maybe that was a little too casual, because Daniel suddenly hesitated in the doorway, blinking myopically. "Oh, thanks." Another pause, then Daniel crossed the kitchen to offer Jack a kiss.

Okay, this was better. Jack returned the brief peck without comment, but when Daniel started to pull back he realized that maybe a little more needed to be said on the matter. He reached out, wrapping a hand around the back of Daniel's neck, and held him still for another, longer kiss.

"Good morning," Jack said when they parted, and Daniel smiled sheepishly.

"Morning, Jack," he said, and looked abashed. "Thanks. I think I needed that."

Jack felt his brows go up. "What? Needed to know that I wasn't about to run screaming into the sunrise?"

Daniel had the grace to look embarassed. "Okay, yeah. Something like that."

"Daniel...." He turned away, staring briefly over the well-groomed back yard, wondering how much he could let Daniel know. "I should have told you," he said presently. "But there was never a good time. And never a good way to say it without sounding like...." He grimaced. "Well, you know."

Now Daniel was looking confused. "No, I don't. Tell me what, Jack?"

Jack wiped his hand down his face. _You're going to make me say it, aren't you?_ "I know you probably think that because I'm in the military.... Look, this wasn't the first time," he said shortly. "Before I married Sara, there were, you know, some others."

"Other men?" Daniel hazarded, and Jack nodded.

"Yeah. So if you think I'm going to freak out about that, you can put your mind to rest."

"Oh." Daniel was, if anything, looking even more puzzled. "Well, I hate to say it, but after last night I kind of figured that out for myself."

"Oh." Jack thought back. "Yeah. Well, anyway, I wanted you to know."

"Thank you for telling me, though," Daniel said quietly. "That means a lot to me, to hear it from you." He took a deep breath. "But there's one thing I think we do need to talk about: What are we going to do now?"

_How the hell should I know?_ But Jack didn't pretend to misunderstand. "I don't know," he said. "I think maybe not telling anyone might be a good start."

"Yeah, I figured that one out on my own."

Jack shook his head. "Look, Daniel, there aren't exactly any regulations that cover this." He stopped. "Well, apart from the ones that say 'Don't do it.'"

Daniel folded his arms. "No, I don't think regulations are going to be much help," he said with a smile. "I guess we'll have to take it--"

"--one step at a time," Jack finished for him. "Yeah."

The last of the coffee gurgled into the pot, and Jack turned to the counter with a sigh of relief, grateful for the interruption. "Finally," he said and reached for the cups hung under the cabinet. As he did, the back door rattled abruptly, and he heard a series of loud, urgent whines. "Oh, for crying out loud...Daniel, pour the coffee. I'm going to let Gordie in before he breaks down the door."

Thankfully, Daniel seemed willing to let the conversation drop, for now anyway. "Sure, Jack."

Leaving Daniel to deal with the coffee, Jack went to the back door and unlocked it, bracing himself for the impact. But when he got to the screen door, the dog that awaited him wasn't Gordie.

"Hey, big fella," Jack said absently, peering out the back for signs of his own dog. The yard was empty, though, and he turned his attention to the stranger on the porch. "Hey," he said again, and bent down to give his head a brief rub. He was a beautiful Golden Retriever, obviously someone's pet and well taken care of, but Jack was darned if he knew how he'd gotten in his back yard. Probably the same way that Gordie had apparently gotten out. He stood up and edged past him to get to the rail. "Gordie!" he called, and whistled. "Hey, Gordie! C'mere, big guy!"

"Jack?" Daniel appeared in the doorway, two cups of coffee in his hands. "Jack, what's going on?"

"I can't find Gordie," Jack told him, leaning over the rail to squint under the deck.

"Jack, he's right behind you."

"Huh?" Jack whipped around, and narrowly missed getting licked in the face by the friendly retriever. "Hey, you," he sputtered. "Get down."

Daniel laughed. "See?"

For a moment, Jack stared at him. "Daniel, this isn't Gordie."

"Of course it is." Daniel looked at him oddly, then came forward and handed him a cup of coffee. "Here."

Jack took it, but didn't drink. "I think you need to get new glasses, Daniel," he said. "Gordie's a Lab. He's not even the same color."

Now it was Daniel's turn to stare. "No," he said slowly. "Gordie's a Golden Retriever. Look at him, Jack. He knows you."

The retriever did seem to be awful friendly, but that didn't mean much. Exasperated, Jack knelt down and grabbed his collar, abandoning his coffee on the floor of the deck. "I'll prove it," he said, and fumbled in the fur of the dog's neck until he found his tags. "See? It says right here--"

Gordie.

Stunned, Jack let the tags fall and stood up. "Holy shit," he said, then stared up Daniel. "What the hell's going on here?" he demanded. "Where's Gordie?"

Daniel was looking at him as if he'd never seen him before in his life. "Jack, that's what I'm trying to tell you. That _is_ Gordie. That's the same dog you've had ever since I've known you."

"No, it isn't. You think I don't know my own damn dog?" Jack heard his voice rise almost to a shout, and forced himself to lower his voice. "What's going on, Daniel?" he asked again.

"I don't know," Daniel said absently, and lowered himself to the edge of one of the deck chairs. "Let me think for a minute."

"What's there to think about?"

"I don't know. Now shut up."

The novelty of Daniel asking him to shut up was enough to silence Jack for a full minute, long enough for Daniel to have his think. But when Daniel finally looked up at him again, Jack was pretty sure he wasn't going to like what he said.

"Jack, listen to me," he said. "I think something's wrong."

"Yeah, what was your first clue?" Jack could have bitten his tongue off for the harsh, sarcastic words, but Daniel didn't seem to notice.

"I know this is going to be hard to accept, but please, just hear me out." Daniel pulled in a deep breath, and Jack wanted to tell him to stop, beg him not to say what Jack already knew he was going to say. "Jack, I think you're in the wrong reality."

"No," Jack denied automatically. "That's nuts, Daniel."

"Think about it, Jack. For as long as I've known you, this dog right here has been your dog. But you remember it differently, don't you?"

"So?" Jack wouldn't look at the dog. "I didn't go through the damn mirror, Daniel."

"Didn't you? We were all watching, but that was an awfully bright flash of light. Maybe you did go through, just for a instant, just long enough to switch with a Jack O'Neill on the other side."

"Okay, this is officially too weird, Daniel. I am not from some alternate universe, okay? Everything here is exactly as I remember it, all right?" But even as he said it, he felt a twinge, recalling all the little things that he had overlooked the day before. Nothing much, all easily explainable by him simply not remembering, or being tired, or confused.

"Except for Gordie," Daniel insisted.

"Okay," Jack conceded, resolutely ignoring the lingering doubts. "Except for Gordie. So in order for me to have done what you say, I'd have to come from a universe where everything was identical but the color of my dog? Listen to yourself, Daniel. It's crazy."

"Okay, then explain it to me, Jack. Give me another good reason why Gordie is suddenly a completely different dog. And while you're at it, explain why I haven't seen you smoke a single cigarette today, or yesterday."

"You know damn well I don't smoke anymore."

Wordlessly, Daniel got up and opened the kitchen door. He reached inside and produced, from the shelf nearest the door, a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "Then what are these for?" he asked.

Jack stared at the cigarettes as if he'd never seen them before. "Okay," he said. "Those aren't mine."

"No," Daniel agreed, and reached up to put them back. "They belong to the other Jack O'Neill. The one who lives here."

That was one of the problems with denial. It was great while it lasted, but when the facts finally smacked him in the face, it only made the reality that much worse. "No," Jack tried again, but this time he knew it was no use. "Oh, god," he groaned, and sank down onto the chair Daniel had just vacated. "Oh, god, Daniel. How did this happen?"

"I don't know, Jack. I wish I could explain it."

Daniel didn't say any more, but he didn't have to. Jack knew it as well as he did. If it was true, if this wasn't his reality, then he couldn't stay here. He'd have to go back.

Beside him, Daniel swallowed. "Jack," he said gently. "You don't belong here."

It cut him more than he would have thought, hearing the words out loud. Especially hearing them from Daniel. _Don't belong here. Don't belong here with you._ Jack put his head in his hands, his fists clenched against his forehead. "The hell I don't," he said, his voice muffled. _I do belong here, dammit. I belong with you._ "This is crazy, Daniel."

"Jack." Daniel reached out and took Jack's wrists, pulling his hands from his face. "Jack, I'm sorry."

Jack couldn't look at him, his eyes still closed. "This is a hell of a way to break up," he muttered, and abruptly pulled himself free, standing up and walking into the house without another word.

No use crying over spilled milk, was there? Never mind all those years of wanting, of waiting, of wondering exactly what it was that he did want from his best friend other than friendship. Never mind that he'd never even let himself imagine in his wildest dreams that he would ever hear what he heard from Daniel last night. Never mind how it felt to make love to him, never mind how he'd felt waking up beside him this morning. None of that mattered now. What mattered was that a mission had gone wrong, and it was his duty to make it right. The insignificant emotional impact on a certain Jack O'Neill didn't merit consideration.

All he had to do now was convince himself of that.

"Jack--" Daniel had followed him, and his voice stopped Jack in the door to the hall. "Jack," he said. "Please. Don't shut me out, not yet."

_Too late,_ Jack thought. _Sorry, Daniel. If you're right, this is the only way._ "Get dressed, Daniel," he said harshly, his voice rough with the other words he was choking on, the ones he wanted to say, but couldn't. "We're going back to the base."

"Jack." Daniel's hand settled gently on his shoulder, and Jack felt his throat close up. This time yesterday, Daniel would have been as likely to touch him as he would have been to grow wings. One day, and he already ached to think that he might never feel that touch again. Daniel tightened his hand, his voice soft. "Jack, don't."

Jack's head bowed, grateful that his face was hidden from Daniel's gaze. "Now, Daniel," he ground out, then pulled himself away and walked to the bedroom.

\-----

When Daniel knocked on the door, Jack didn't move. He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, but it hadn't been long enough. Daniel came in without waiting for an answer, and sat down next to Jack. Too close, but Jack wasn't about to make an issue of it by moving away. So he let Daniel stay there, their shoulders almost touching, both of them staring at the scuffed wood of Jack's bedroom floor.

"I'm sorry, Jack," Daniel finally said. "I wish--" He broke it off. "I'd give anything if things had worked out differently."

"Yeah," Jack said. "Me, too," he forced out.

Daniel was silent. "I know that this might not be comforting, but--" He swallowed. "Our worlds are so close. It's not too farfetched to think that your Daniel feels the same way about you that I do about my Jack. I mean, it obviously wasn't something that happened out of the blue, was it?"

"Daniel--" Jack bit off the words. "Daniel, I appreciate what you're trying to do. Really. But the fact is that you're not my Daniel and I'm not your Jack, okay? We made a mistake last night, and now we have to live with that."

"Was it so bad, Jack?" Daniel asked quietly. "Did it feel like a mistake?"

Jack didn't bother to answer that. "I have to go back, Daniel. The sooner the better."

"Dammit, Jack!" Daniel flung himself off the bed, pacing to the closet and back with his arms folded over his chest. "Sometimes you are the most infuriating man I've ever met. We made love last night! Passionately, beautifully. I gave you something I've only given to a handful of other people in my entire life, and now you want to say that it's nothing."

"That's not what I'm saying," Jack said impatiently, annoyed at himself for even getting involved in the conversation. "I'm not saying that it wasn't--" He faltered. "--good," he finished lamely. "And I'm not saying that, at the time, it wasn't something special. But the fact is that we both made love to the wrong person."

"Is that how you see it?"

"Is there another way to see it?" Jack countered.

He should have known better than to even ask. "Of course there is." Daniel pointed to himself. "I'm Daniel Jackson." He turned the finger to Jack. "You're Jack O'Neill. In every way that mattered last night, Daniel Jackson and Jack O'Neill made love. Yes, it matters that we weren't exactly who the other person thought, but don't you see what it means? If our worlds are so close that we can be together for over a day and not even notice, then doesn't it stand to reason that my Jack and your Daniel know what we know? That they feel what we feel?" Daniel threw his hands out. "Hell, for all we know they did the exact same thing that we did last night!"

"None of which changes the fact that I still have to go back."

Daniel sobered. "I know. I guess what I'm saying is now you know how your Daniel feels. At least I think so."

"But that's the big question, isn't it? We don't know. Neither of us knows."

Daniel smiled. "Yeah, but I'm willing to take the chance again."

Jack didn't return the smile. Easy for Daniel. He'd made up his mind a long time ago, apparently, but none of what happened changed the fact that Jack still wasn't sure that this was a good idea. There were so many things that could go wrong, so many unknowns that could bring both their careers, and a hell of a lot more, crashing down around their ears. Jack had given in last night, despite his better judgment, despite all his carefully formulated plans. He'd been ready to face the consequences this morning, more than ready with the thought that, whatever else happened, he'd have Daniel. But now, with the sick, cold knot of emptiness sitting in the pit of his stomach, he wasn't sure that he had the courage to go through it all again. Maybe it had been a mistake, after all, and maybe he ought to take this chance to fix it.

"You'd better get ready," was all he could say. "We need to get back."

Daniel looked away, starting to get up, then stopped. He hesitated for a moment, then turned and met Jack's mouth with a long, desperate kiss. Jack didn't want to, knew he was just torturing himself, but he couldn't have pulled away any more than he could have stopped breathing. Though, for a few minutes, he tried. They clung to each other for a long time, Jack rocking Daniel against him as if trying to imprint the memory of him into his very bones. Then, finally, he had to let him go. Daniel touched him once more, a light brush of his fingers over Jack's knee, then stood up, moving quickly to retrieve his scattered clothes from the night before.

"I'm going to take a shower," he said. "And then I'll be ready."

Jack tried twice to speak, couldn't, and settled for nodding. Daniel nodded back, then turned and was gone.

\-----

The next few hours were ones that Jack would as soon forget, if he could. The drive back to the base, tracking down General Hammond and Carter and Teal'c, explaining to them what had happened, and trying to prove that this wasn't where he belonged. And through it all, he and Daniel standing like strangers, stiff and awkward and silent, not daring to speak so much as a word to one another while Carter debated with the General about how best to fix the situation.

"This is incredible," Carter said for about the dozenth time, staring at Jack as though he were some kind complex problem that had been given to her to solve. Which wasn't, he reflected, all that far from the truth. "You and the other Colonel O'Neill must have been trying to get into the same alternate reality, and touched the mirror at the exact same moment. Incredible."

"But why would that matter?" Daniel asked. "It's hardly the first time that two people have tried to coexist in one reality."

"No, but it is the first time that two people have tried to coexist in a third reality, one that neither of them belongs to. That we know of," she qualified. "Also, if our theory is correct, and they tried to go through simultaneously, there's a distinct possibility that they would have ended up occupying the same physical space as well."

Even Jack was able to process that image. "Euw."

"Exactly," Carter said. "It's not surprising that the mirror sent you back."

"Only, it didn't exactly send me back," Jack said grimly. He wiped his hand down his face, staring at the object of discussion. "So, what now?"

Carter hesitated. "Well, the simplest solution would be to find your reality and send you back to fetch our Colonel O'Neill and send _him_ back."

"I'm sensing a 'but' here, Major."

She paused again, gathering the words to explain, hopefully in terms that he could understand. "If our two realities are that closely aligned, then there's a good chance that the other O'Neill is doing the same thing that you are right now. We could be standing in the lab having this precise same conversation."

"And this is a problem?"

"I don't know." Carter swiveled around to look at the models she'd drawn on her computer screen, then turned back to the mirror. "But there's only one way to find out."

It didn't take long to find Jack's own reality. If he'd been in better command of his faculties the day before, he realized sheepishly, he might even have noticed that the Daniel in this reality had drawn a slightly different symbol to mark their own way back. Apparently, though, his counterpart hadn't noticed the change either, because when they flashed on the lab in Jack's world it was dim and silent.

"Guess your double went home," Daniel said, peering into the empty space.

"Looks like it." Carter seemed relieved. "Well, at least we won't have to worry about another switch. I hope." She straightened up.

"So what now?" Daniel asked the question to Carter, but it was Jack who answered.

"Now, I go back."

\-----

The first thing Jack did was check his watch. If Carter was right, then he probably had a good forty-eight hours to find his other self and get him back to where he belonged, but he wasn't about to waste any time. Witnessing a cascade tremor had been bad enough. He had his share of curiosity, but he was fairly certain that he could live a fulfilling life without experiencing one first-hand.

All the same, he couldn't stop himself from turning, just once, and looking back through the mirror. Carter and Teal'c were still there, watching, waiting until he found their Jack. Carter gave him a grin and a thumbs-up, and Teal'c nodded solemnly. But Jack wasn't looking at either of them. Instead, his attention drifted at once to the back of the room, where Daniel stood, arms folded across his chest. For a single instant, their eyes met, then Jack nodded curtly and turned away.

Jack took a deep breath and glanced around the lab. It was a strange feeling, realizing that, for the first time in over twenty-four hours, he was actually where he belonged. Although that, he realized, was something of a relative term. At the moment, where he felt he belonged was where he'd been: lying in Daniel's arms. The fact that it had been a literal, if not figurative, universe away didn't seem to make any difference.

All this introspection, though, wasn't bringing him any closer to finding himself. Jack walked away from the mirror and out of the lab, trying to imagine what he might be doing on an afternoon off.

That was easy, he realized. He'd either be with Carter and Teal'c and Daniel, or with Cassie and Daniel, or walking Gordie with Daniel, or watching television with Daniel, or at a movie with Daniel....

Or, if this truly was an almost exact parallel to his own world, making love with Daniel. _At least, that's sure as hell what _I'd_ be doing right now._

All the same, Jack was beginning to appreciate the difficulty of what seemed, on the surface, a childishly simple matter. Find himself, sure. But how? Was he supposed to go up to the first person he saw and say, "Hey, where am I?"

"Colonel?"

On the other hand. "Oh, hi, Major."

Carter nodded, but her eyes were curious. "I thought you were at home, sir."

Jack should have told her. As he'd reminded himself not two minutes before, he didn't need to be wasting any of his precious time here. But even as he opened his mouth to speak, he was already shaping the lies he needed to tell. "Uh, yeah. I was. But I came back for...something."

"Oh. Okay." Carter cocked her head. "Are you okay, sir? That was a nasty jolt you took."

"I'm fine," he assured her truthfully. "I'm going to go home right now. Promise."

Mollified, Carter nodded. "All right. You need a lift?"

"No, I'll manage, thanks." Jack finally forced himself to move, edging past her into the hall. "See you later, Carter."

"Yes, sir. Have a good day, sir."

"I will," he promised, and fled.

He was so relieved to find his own car in the lot that it took him a moment to realize the significance of its presence. Okay, this could be awkward. What if Daniel--the other Daniel--was right? What if their worlds were so close that almost everything was identical? What if that other Jack was making love to his Daniel right now?

_Let's not go there,_ Jack told himself firmly. _One crisis at a time, O'Neill._ But he couldn't help a groan as he steered his car onto the highway. What a mess.

It crossed his mind, more than briefly, to pretend as though nothing had happened. Surely better, in the long run, for all concerned. Even if Daniel had...done it with the other Jack, all he had to do was say that nothing had happened with him. An easy lie. If Daniel tried to pursue it, then he'd do what he probably should have done last night. Nip it in the bud, tell Daniel he wasn't interested, quote a few regs, and that would be that. It was what he should have done in the first place, what he should have done the instant that Daniel put his hand over his last night. Better. Easier.

Lonelier.

_Don't start, Jack. You knew better. Getting involved with Daniel was a mistake and you know it. Is it worth your career? Both your careers? You know what would happen if Hammond found out. If you're lucky, he'll only split up the team and transfer your butt to Antarctica._ Either way, it'd be the end of working with Daniel on SG-1.

And what if Hammond didn't find out? Daniel was no dummy, after all. He'd know how important it was to be discreet, to say and do nothing on the base or on a mission that would even hint that their relationship had changed. _But how long could you keep it up, Jack? How long before one of you slipped, said or did something that tipped off the whole command to what was going on? What then?_

Jack shook his head to clear out that train of thought. No, he couldn't let that happen, and that was that. He'd just have to lie to Daniel, and deal with the consequences later. That was what this whole mission had been about, after all, right? Finding ways to fix the mistakes they'd made?

_And if you think that making love to Daniel was a mistake, then you're the biggest fool in the world._ But that wasn't a thought he could afford to have right now.

When Jack pulled up in the driveway of his own house, he felt a twinge of unease. Daniel's car was there, parked in Jack's usual space. Great. Just what he needed, an audience. He sat for a moment after killing the engine, wondering how the hell he was supposed to handle this. Nothing in the handbook about dealing with one's own doppelganger, that was for sure. _Guess you'll make it up as you go along, Jack._

At the garage door, Jack hesitated. Technically, this was his house, after all. The other guy was the interloper, and Jack was morally justified in barging on in. Problem was, he had a fairly good idea of how he'd react if he saw his twin strolling through the front door. Jack raised his hand to knock. Before he could finish the motion, though, he realized that he could hear voices from the back of the house. Voices, and a dog barking. _Deja vu?_ Jack wondered, and put his hands in his pockets before walking around to the side of the house.

Even prepared as he was, it was still a shock. There _he_ was, that skinny gray-haired guy standing on the edge of the deck, looking out over the back yard while Gordie--a beautiful, familiar, black-haired Gordie--jumped and barked to try to get his attention. Then Daniel's voice floated out from the kitchen door.

"Jack, I'm telling you. Gordie's right there."

Ah, yes. His cue. Clearing his throat, Jack strolled nonchalantly around the corner of the deck, stopping just under the comically stunned face of his double. "Hey, Jack," he said. "Three guesses as to what part of the mission screwed up."

Daniel's face suddenly appeared beside the other O'Neill's, eyes nearly popping out of his head. "Jack?"

"That's me."

Daniel looked from one of them to the other. "My god."

The other O'Neill was looking down at him, eyes narrowed. "What the hell's going on here?" he demanded. "Who are you?"

"I'm Jack O'Neill, and that damn mirror switched us, that's what's going on," Jack told him. "Guess you weren't as quick to figure it out," he couldn't resist adding, and saw the other man scowl.

"I guess not," he said with pardonable sarcasm.

"Wait a minute. Switched you?" Daniel was looking at them both. "That's incredible, Jack."

"Yeah," the other O'Neill said.

Jack turned his gaze to Daniel. "Daniel," he said, and was pleased that his voice didn't sound any different. There, it was working already. Everything normal here, nothing unusual to see, folks. "Daniel, I need you to go back to the base and explain what happened."

"They don't know yet?" Daniel stared. "Then how--?"

"Never mind," Jack snapped. "I wanted to find...myself without making a big fuss, okay? Now that I have, we need to get him back to where he belongs ASAP, got it?"

"Okay." Daniel didn't look convinced, but he pushed himself back from the railing. "I'm on my way, Jack."

"We'll be right behind you," Jack told him, and waited until the kitchen door had shut behind him. Then he turned to his twin. "You and me," he said sternly. "We need to have a little talk."

To his credit, the other Jack seemed to be taking things in stride. "Sure. You know the way up, I guess."

Up on the deck, Jack faced his double and took a good look. Bizarre. Then he and the other Jack looked away, and he heard them both give a long, shivering sigh.

"Okay," Jack said, suddenly eager to get this over with and get this--doppelganger--out of his life. "First thing I gotta know. Anything happen with you and Daniel last night?"

It was weird, seeing his own discomfort reflected on that face, but even weirder was the confusion that followed. "What do you mean?"

Okay, either this Jack was a hell of a lot better as an actor, or things weren't quite as parallel as Jack had feared. But even as he was relieved that he wouldn't have to explain things to his own Daniel, he was annoyed that his counterpart had apparently let the ball drop. "Did you show him Abydos last night?"

"No, I--"

"You dumbass," Jack said without heat, and watched the other man's brows shoot up.

"Excuse me?"

"Look, I know you," he said. "So you can drop the bullshit with me, okay? You've been thinking about it for two years now, and every time he's been here since Sha're died you've told yourself that you needed to do it. But you didn't."

"No, I--"

"Well, I did," Jack interrupted. "Last night, after Daniel drove me home."

"I was going to," the other O'Neill finally got in defensively, and glowered. "What's the big deal anyway?"

"The big deal?" Jack searched his double's face, trying to find the words to tell him, failing miserably until he heard his own voice blurt out, "We slept together."

For a second, O'Neill stared at him. "What?"

"We slept together," Jack said again, finding the words somehow easier this time. "We had sex."

Slowly, O'Neill sank down on the edge of the lounge chair, the gesture eerily familiar. "You and Daniel," he said, and Jack nodded. "Oh, boy."

"Yeah. Only it wasn't exactly the Daniel I thought it was, and I wasn't the Jack he thought I was."

"You mean me," O'Neill said flatly.

"Yeah."

"And you think if I'd shown him the Abydos star last night, we would've...." O'Neill gestured helplessly.

"Yeah. And don't tell me you wouldn't have, because I know better."

"Wow." O'Neill rubbed his hand over his face. "Wow," he said again. "And you decided to tell me this, because...?"

"Because I don't want you to screw things up when you get back. It took a lot for Daniel to spill his guts like that, and I know damn well that _you'd_ never say it to him, so I figured you might as well know that it already happened."

"You think Daniel wouldn't have told me?"

"I don't know," Jack said honestly. "Maybe he would have. The question is, are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

"How you feel about him. That you'd have been on him like green on grass a long time ago if it wasn't for Sha're." Wow. It was amazing how much easier it was to say this stuff when he was talking to himself. It wasn't even something Jack had ever really thought about, but when it came time to kick his own self in the ass, it was surprising at how much he could say out loud.

"How do you--?" O'Neill shut his mouth. "You're assuming an awful lot here, O'Neill."

"Yeah, how about you stop me when I start getting it wrong."

The other man didn't answer for a while, looking out over the yard and absently rubbing behind Gordie's ears. "This is a lot to take in," he said at last, and Jack snorted in agreement.

"Tell me about it." Suddenly tired of looming over himself, Jack pulled up another chair and sat down. "I guess I never really thought it would happen. I mean, I _thought_ about it, about how I'd handle it, but when the time came, I wasn't ready at all."

"Well, obviously you recovered." O'Neill squinted up at the sky, then returned his attention to the decking under his feet. "So, if you don't mind me asking...how was it?"

"What?"

"You know. Daniel. Being...with Daniel."

"Getting a little personal, aren't we?"

"Hey, if I can't ask you...."

Jack looked away, finding it necessary to swallow. "It was Daniel," he said, as if that explained everything, and saw the other man nod. "It was incredible," he finally qualified, and heard O'Neill give a quiet, deep sigh.

"And now you want me to pick up where you left off."

"Hey, it's up to you," Jack said, glad for the chance for a little justified anger. "But if you don't, then you're an idiot."

"So how about you?" O'Neill asked. "Are you going to tell Daniel?"

That was the trouble with talking to yourself. The other party knew you all too damn well. "Yeah," Jack said easily. "Sure."

The other trouble was that the other party knew exactly how you looked when you were lying. For a long time, O'Neill said nothing. "You son of a bitch," he said. "And you're calling _me_ an idiot."

"Hey, it's a totally different situation here," Jack defended. "Daniel--my Daniel--doesn't know what happened."

"Yeah, and what he doesn't know won't hurt him? For crying out loud," O'Neill finished with disgust. "And what about the day when he does tell you? You going to lie to him then?"

"No. I'll tell him the truth." Jack took in a deep breath. "That it's a bad idea for an officer to get involved with someone in his command."

"Excuse me? Pot, hello, you're black."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"That you're a freakin' hypocrite, that's what!" O'Neill was on his feet now, standing over him with his arms folded. "I've got boot-prints on my ass from you, and now _you're_ sitting there about to throw it away."

"Yeah, well, that's my decision, not yours."

"The _hell_ it isn't. I know you, O'Neill. I know exactly what happened, what you're thinking."

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really." O'Neill glared down at him. "You finally did it with Daniel. It was great, and wonderful, bells ringing, la-di-dah, but now you're scared."

"Ex-_scuse_ me?"

"You heard me. You started something with him, and now you're scared to death of where it might go."

"That is _not_ true," Jack denied hotly. "You're trying to tell me that I've got some kind of cold feet or something?"

"That's exactly what I'm trying to tell you. And I should know."

"Yeah, well, maybe it's my problem, not yours."

"And maybe that wasn't the 'right' Daniel that just walked out of here, but I'm damned if I'm going to let you fuck up his life."

"Hey--"

"You promise me, Jack," O'Neill said, bending down and seizing a handful of his jacket. "You swear to me, right now, that you won't let another day go by without telling Daniel _exactly_ what you did with him in that--in my world. Swear it, or as God is my witness I'll march right down to the base and tell him myself."

"You wouldn't," Jack started to say, then shut his mouth as he realized that, yeah, he would. "I know you mean that," he said.

"Damn right. So, you swear?"

Put that way, Jack didn't see that he had much choice. "Yeah," he said. "I'll tell him. I promise."

"Good." O'Neill stepped back. "So, that it? Anything else you need to tell me?"

"Nope. That was pretty much the big one."

"Okay. Good." O'Neill gestured to the door. "Then let's get me back."

\-----

From the personal journal of Daniel Jackson:

I still can't believe what's happened, how much has changed in my life in the last two days. And most of it didn't even happen to me.

Jack O'Neill is the most irritating man alive. No matter what happens to him, he always lands on his feet.

Okay, maybe that's not fair. But I spent the night before last curled up like a pretzel in Jack's medieval easy chair, and Jack spent it...well, spent it doing what we did tonight.

He's asleep now. Snoring, actually. Funny, in all the years I've known him, all the time I've wanted to be this close to him, to make love with him, I've never before thought of Jack O'Neill as beautiful. He'd deny it, if I told him. Blow it off, laugh, shield himself with a crack about his gray hair, the lines on his face. It's a good act, granted. The problem is, I think sometimes Jack believes it himself.

He never would have told me on his own. Part of me is annoyed with him, thinking of all the time we wasted, thinking of all the nights I spent agonizing over this decision, wondering if I'd come away wishing that I'd never spoken. But that's Jack. If he changed, he wouldn't be the man I fell in love with. I didn't even need an alternate universe to tell me that.

I'm finding myself feeling more than a little jealous of, well, myself. It's petty, but he and Jack shared something that I'll never have. Not that it wasn't wonderful, not that being with Jack--god, being inside Jack--wasn't incredible, and fantastic, and every other piece of hyperbole I can think of. But I still feel cheated, feel that my first time with Jack--wasn't. Not for him.

On the other hand, I can't say that making love to someone who's already intimately acquainted with every one of my erogenous zones was entirely a bad thing.

I really can't complain too much, not when we'll have, hopefully, a long, long time to figure things out. The important thing is that we didn't miss our chance. There was a fork in the road, and I'd like to think that we--and our counterparts on the other side--took the right path.

That's good enough for me.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> This story was completed October 10, 1999 and first published in [Chevron One Encoded](http://zoerayne.slashdom.com/infinity/) August 2000
> 
> **Thanks** to Carolyn, mesnoo and Rae, for truly excellent beta reading, and to Arduinna for the fine-comb proofing. I can't even imagine what this story would be like without your help. All the remaining mistakes are entirely my own.


End file.
